Choices
by ArissaMay
Summary: He was alone. So was she. He refused to admit it. So did she. He disappeared from her life long ago, and returned as a wanted criminal for a crime he didn't truly commit. How will she react? And what will happen when they come for him? [Kraine]
1. Prologue

**ArissaMay:** Yes, I know this has taken a while to start. It's because I planned this in way more detail than I should have, and because I've got two stories in the works on my alternate account that I shall not name. And yes, I know this isn't Sheelos. It's Kraine. My Sheelos will come when this is done. I may not update as often as with Retribution, because, like I said, I have two stories under my alternate name to keep up on, but... Enjoy.

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Chapter One (Prologue)

All was silent on the mana planet, Derris Kharlan. All was silent, as it always was. Not a single being moved on the stone walkways that laced most of the planet's surface. Not a single being _existed_. For the moment. Suddenly, the pounding of footsteps echoed across the deserted planet, first quiet, then progressively louder. Before long, what was for so many years silent was alive with shouts and protests, and more sets of pounding footsteps, shattering the silence like a large stone shatters a window.

A figure was racing through the labyrinth of paths, in what seemed to be no general direction, but his destination was set clear in his mind, as was a desperate urge to reach it. His upper face was obscured by unruly auburn hair, beneath which glowed similar eyes and a masculine face, it's otherwise handsome features contorted with pain and exhaustion. He was garbed in long white uniform-slacks and a similar loose-fitting shirt, though his entire torso was covered in a series of mana-enforced dragon-hide straps that made up his armor and completed his uniform. But while his armor protected his chest, his pants and sleeves were tattered in places, and blood soaked through the white material surrounding said tatters. Violet and cerulean wings of mana sprouted from between his shoulder blades.

Though he was near exhaustion and his vision blurred treacherously, the man refused to stop. Though he stumbled every few steps and with increasing frequency, he refused to cease running. Though the men pursuing him, angels as well and in similar uniform, were closing in fast, he refused to forfeit.

This man was Kratos Aurion. And he refused to die just yet.

A panicked voice rang out above the sound of his footsteps, and his heavy breathing.

"Catch him, or its your lives!" It cried, and the footsteps behind him drew ever-closer. But he couldn't die. For if he did, a secret that could doom the world would die with him.

There it was, up ahead. His destination, glowing like the light at the end of the tunnel. But his pursuers, they were so _close_... He put on an extra burst of speed, throwing himself into the ring of colorless light that signified the warp point and immediately feeling its mana seep into his body. He could hear the angels behind him pursuing with increased intensity. With all his remaining strength, the seraph imploded the warp point behind him, stopping his pursuers and cutting himself off from the silent world he'd grown to call 'home'. And Kratos Aurion faded into darkness.

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**ArissaMay:** That was just the introduction. The next chapter is much, much longer. 


	2. Tempest's Bounty

**ArissaMay:** I realize the first chapter was short. That may just explain why it was the PROLOGUE. :P And one review? I don't suck THAT bad, do I:P

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Chapter Two

The storm outside was fierce. So fierce, the cottage itself seemed to sway and quiver under it's wrath. A single candle was flickering faithfully in the dark, though it seemed to struggle against the tempest as well, despite the fact that four walls and a roof were sheltering it from the elements. But the candle refused to go out. It seemed to know that its company was needed. For it was the sole companion of the half-elven scholar who worked tirelessly in its light.

The half-elf was bent over an assortment of papers, a quill in her left hand, scribbling notes furiously down on the paper closest to herself, with her practiced hand angled upward so as not to smudge the ink she'd just laid. Occasionally, she'd reach up with the same hand and brush her silver hair out of her face, and every so often her action left some sort of black ink trail on her cheek. Unless, of course, she'd uncovered one of her bottles of blue or red ink, but it had been quite a while since such a tremendous event had occurred. So the ink-streaks were usually black. But she didn't bother to wipe them away. 'If you're going to be an archeologist,' she once said, 'you can't be afraid to get dirty.' And though I doubt this is the 'dirty' she was referring to, it was regarded under the same principle.

Besides, who would see them?

It had been approximately three months, nine days, six hours, and fourty five minutes since she had seen another familiar face. And nearly two weeks since she'd seen another being at all. The scholar tended to buy simplistic meals in bulk, and haul them back to her cottage, to emerge again in approximately three weeks. Always in bulk, always simplistic. Even living a solitary life, she'd never truly learned to cook. Maybe it was _because_ she lived a solitary life, where she wasn't pressured to impress others with her culinary skills. Heh, _what_ culinary skills? The others had always told her that the best way to kill an enemy was to feed it some of her cooking. She had always laughed along with them, but secretly, she didn't mind at all that all the cracks about her cooking were over.

But she knew she'd tolerate a million more if it meant things could be how they were before. For she was Raine Sage. And the solitude was killing her, piece by piece.

Thunder sounded from outside, and the half-elf jumped, shocked back into reality. She glanced around her wildly, only to find herself in her cottage, her studies laid out before her. At the top of her sheet of notes, there was the heading, '_The Harnessing and Deflecting of Mana_'. She turned her attention back down to the end, where she'd written a theory on using mana-infused shields to bounce attacks back at their creator, but found herself unable to focus. Her mind kept wandering back to the others. Her friends. Or so she still called them, despite the fact that she hadn't seen them in years, since the two worlds were combined and referred to collectively as Symphonia.

She knew where they all were, of course... Though she rarely went out, she always found out some way or another. Lloyd and Colette lived happily in Iselia Forest, smack dab in between Iselia and Dirk's house. They had an amazing two-story house, courtesy of the villagers. They were happy, and madly in love. Lloyd wasn't quite ready to give up adventure for the quiet life, however, so he'd often make excuses to venture to various areas on some sort of quest or another. Colette used to always accompany him, but she rarely went anymore; rumor has it that she's pregnant.

Genis went to the Palmacosta Academy, when the coastal town was rebuilt of course, and he was learning all he could to become a mage and a scholar. It was he who had last visited Raine which he did on the rare occasion that he wasn't studying or wooing Presea, and he sent her letters once every few weeks, but it wasn't the same. The Professor missed him, missed them all. But there wasn't much she could do about it.

Sheena and Zelos were inseparable. Raine never would have thought it possible. When she'd last seen them, even the goddess herself couldn't get Sheena in the same room as Tethe'alla's Chosen. Yet ever since Mizuho was destroyed, and they went on a quest for retribution, they hadn't been apart. The pair lived in Zelos's mansion, though Raine had caught hint of plans to move somewhere quieter, somewhere where Zelos's angry former-hunnies couldn't murder Sheena in her sleep.

Regal was in Altamira, faithfully running the Lezorano Company, and also aiding a group of people who were traveling about, caving exsphere mines. Raine thought that was a suitable task for him; she had guessed he couldn't restrict himself to the office for long, not after saving the world.

Presea was rebuilding Ozette, one piece at a time. She didn't get much help; occasionally Regal would drop by, or Lloyd would 'adventure' in her direction, but more commonly it was Genis by her side. He'd learned basic telekinesis in the Academy, and was using that to lift the heavier logs. Raine missed her brother, but at the same time she was proud of him and his persistence. It had been three years that he'd been attempting to woo Presea, and there was no end in sight.

And finally, Raine. The Professor had lived in Sybak for two years to further her knowledge, but she'd gotten frustrated with the lingering prejudice, and had moved to a cozy cottage on the beach just out of said town.

Who else was there? She felt like she'd forgotten to mention someone...

_Kratos_.

Kratos. First he was a stranger, then he was an ally, then he was a traitor, then he wasn't, then he was, then he was Lloyd's father, then he was gone. But no matter what he was, he'd never thought of her by her half-elven blood as many others had and still did, but instead by her personality and intelligence. She was always more than just a half-elf to him. But the only thing Raine knew about his whereabouts was that he left with Derris-Kharlan. She didn't even know if he was _alive._ Deep inside, she hoped he was. Though she couldn't for the life of her figure out _why_ she hoped he was, considering she'd never see him again in her life.

The half-elf froze. She'd heard something. A knocking, it sounded like. For a minute or two, she sat there, silent as the grave, listening. All was as it had been before, the storm howling and the candle flickering.

"I must be imagining things," Raine dismissed what she'd 'heard', turning back to the papers to take another go at her studies. Yet again, she heard a knocking, faint but there. The woman shook her head, trying to shake away all the hallucinatory sounds. "They're just figments of my imagination, brought on by my craving for company."

But then something happened that she couldn't dismiss.

There was a heavy thump on the door, and Raine's eyes widened. Lifting herself from the chair, she hurried over to the door. The storm assaulted her the moment she flung open the door, and behind her she could hear her neatly organized stacks of research flying about. But for once, she felt no urge to race back to her precious studies and repair the damage. For there was something on her doorstep. Something large. And when lightning illuminated the sky, the half-elf's eyes widened further still.

It was a human.

A man.

A mercenary.

A seraph.

_Kratos._

Gasping in shock, she crouched down beside him, checking his pulse. He wasn't dead, which relieved her to no end. But he wasn't quite alive either. If she left him out here, soaking wet and freezing, he probably wouldn't last through the night.

Her mind made up, the half-elf slid a hand under his neck, and one over his chest and under his arm, linking hands to form a sort of loop to hoist him in with. Though she was stronger than most women, she still couldn't exactly _lift_ the seraph either. Cursing to herself, she bit her lip and pulled harder and, when at last she'd lifted at least his torso off the ground, she half carried, half dragged him into her cottage, lowering him as gently as she could on a soft rug by the shadowed fireplace and hastily lighting a fire to warm him.

Now that the fire was going, she could examine him more closely. He seemed to have been through a lot, more than most men could handle, and his clothes were more bloody than not. Raine carefully removed his armor and his soaked, bloodstained white shirt, but refused to compromise his dignity and remove his similar pants. Sure, he had undergarments to hide whatever should be hidden, but _still_.

Quickly fetching a towel, she mopped the excess water from his hair and face, but could not dry them completely. This didn't bother her, however; that's partially what the fire was for. She looked over his many cuts and wounds and, reaching for her Crystal Rod, she summoned forth her healing mana.

"_First Aid!_" She softly commanded, and the end of her staff let off a soft glow. Holding it in one hand, she let the other hand hover over his deepest wounds, watching with satisfaction as they slowly closed up. Then, she moved her hand up toward his head, resting her forefinger and middle finger on his forehead.

"_Heal!_"

And with this, the mercenary visibly relaxed, as if the pain was eased away. Sure, he'd probably feel it in the morning, but for now, he was spared.

Sitting cross-legged on the carpet beside him, Raine watched her fallen 'companion', partially hoping he healed a bit before he awoke, and partially praying to Martel that he'd wake up and talk to her, offer her the company she'd craved for longer than she could clearly recall. For what seemed like hours she sat there, watching him sleep, but it was probably only five minutes. Then she shook her head, laughing dryly.

"One second I'm fine, then Kratos shows up on my doorstep and I'm completely useless," she commented to herself, rising to her feet and stepping back over to her table. The papers were in extreme disarray, and with a sigh she collected them once more, beginning the grueling task of sorting them back out. Which is a lot harder than it sounds, considering that for a few of them, Raine had been so excited that her writing was little more than chickenscratch. Yet she made progress. Sort of.

Every three or four papers, her gaze would drift back to the mercenary, pondering what had happened to him, why he wasn't on Derris Kharlan, and why he had chosen _her_ doorstep to collapse on. Then she'd realize her mind was wandering, and she'd shake her head to clear it, turning back to her work.

As the night grew later and the candle grew shorter, it became harder and harder to focus. And when the first light shone in the sky, it found Raine Sage asleep at her desk, her head on the pile of papers she was sorting, and her candle burned out.

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**ArissaMay:** Okay, this one was better I hope. The next one will probably be better still. Tell me if I don't have their characters right, well, Raine's at least. I'm new to writing as her. 


	3. A Tragic Tale

**ArissaMay:** Sorry for the huge wait, I wanted to get Elemental Affections finished (my Sheelos one-shots) and I had like seven chapters left to do. I just uploaded the last one though, so… Back to Choices. :D

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Chapter Three

_Thump._

The half-elf jolted awake, looking about her wildly. Though she'd not been in peril since the World Regeneration Journey had ended, she remained a light sleeper, and any strange noise could and would awaken her. This time, the source of her alarm was a massive leather-bound book sliding from the precariously tall pile on her table and landing splayed spine-up on the floor. With a snort of disapproval, she plucked the book from it's position and carefully righted all the creased pages with a tenderness that would surprise and confuse any who didn't know the Professor well. After the pages were correct once more, she shut the book, placing it on a much shorter pile.

All at once, Raine was acutely aware of a heavy, rhythmic breathing. Her gaze swept over to Kratos, and in that moment she recalled the events of the prior night. How he'd shown up in a storm, how he'd been injured, how she'd stayed up till dawn trying to get work done that would have taken ten minutes had she not been distracted by the mercenary by the fireplace.

She gazed at him a moment, and concluded that he was still completely unconscious. Silently padding over and crouching beside him, the woman glanced over him once more, checking to see how well the rest of his wounds were healing. A stain of crimson caught her attention, and she looked to the source. A nasty-looking gash adorned his left hand, and though the blood was dry, it looked as painful as it would if the wound were fresh. She carefully reached out to rest her fingers on the wound, calling forth her mana...

The next thing Raine knew, the wounded hand had locked in a deathgrip around her wrist, and the seraph was leaning over her, his dagger at her throat. His hazel eyes held the desperate ferocity of a trapped animal, and for a moment, the scholar was afraid he would kill her. But after a moment, his eyes widened in recognition, and he relaxed, collapsing back onto the floor. Though his eyes were closed beneath his auburn bangs, she knew he wasn't asleep. And after a moment, her knowledge was confirmed.

"You never _would_ just let me die, would you?" He questioned rhetorically, his voice weak but at the same time overwhelmingly familiar.

"I seem to recall you returning the favor a few times, if my memory is correct," she replied, carefully concealing how ecstatic she was that he'd come. Like I said, she had long been starved of human contact. Even if Mithos himself had come to her with another horrible plot, it would have been hard for her to send away the company.

"Hmph." He turned his head to face the fireplace, attempting to dismiss her.

"You can't get rid of me _that_ easily."

"Raine, I'm tired, weak, and wounded. What do you gain from continuing to pester me?"

The Professor snorted indignantly, her figurative feathers somewhat ruffled by his 'holier-than-thou' attitude. "I want answers. Truthful ones."

"Fine," he sighed in defeat. "Just don't interrupt, I'm only gonna say this once."

She nodded, and he opened his mouth to start.

"No, I'm sorry, wait a moment." With this, the half-elf scurried over to her desk, retrieving a notebook and a quill. "_What_?" She questioned in response to his incredulous look. "I am a _scholar_, I simply _must_ record anything of any significance." She flipped to the next blank page, readied her quill, and gazed at him expectantly.

"If you must. So what answers are you looking for?" He prompted wearily, and her eyes lit up, her mouth opening and closing as if deciding which question to ask first.

"Why and how have you left Derris Kharlan? How did you find me? Didn't Derris-Kharlan detach itself from Symphonia years ago? What caused all your wounds?" The eager Professor would have spewed even _more_ questions than her previous rapid succession of queries, had he not cleared his throat to distract her. "Yes, Kratos?"

"If you're done, I can begin my explanation." She nodded, so he continued. "I left Derris-Kharlan via the warp gate that remained even when the two planets were separated. I left because I had no choice. It was either escape, or face death."

Raine, who had been scribbling down notes in her notebook, looked up at him in surprise. "Death? And escape from what?"

"Apparently you _weren't_ done..." He mumbled, before continuing in a normal voice. "I wasn't alone on Derris-Kharlan. I thought I was, sure, but somehow, a fragment of Martel's spirit lived on, on Derris-Kharlan no less. She kept the mana planet linked with Symphonia, for fear that if her soul were separated it may disappear altogether. Unfortunately, the fragment of Martel that was with me on Derris-Kharlan was her mortal side, her emotions and such. It was kind of like having the old Martel there with me, which was fine for a while... Until she got lonely."

"Fascinating! But why would she get lonely, if you were there?"

His brow furrowed in annoyance, but he didn't comment on her third interruption. "I liked to spend much of my time alone, clearing my head and pondering a variety of things. On Derris-Kharlan, there is no day or night, and since angelic beings do not sleep, we have no way to distinguish one day from the next, so I do not know exactly how long I'd been there before she changed everything, but not so long ago, she got too lonely to bear it. And from one of her feathers, she created another angel. Jeremiel by name. All was fine and well for a while, until he developed a cunning, and with that, a greed. He tricked Martel into making more seraphim, and he tricked her into drawing Derris-Kharlan back toward Symphonia. She cherished him, almost as much as she once cherished Yuan. And then she died, with no evidence as to how or why."

Raine's eyes widened. "Martel is... dead?"

"Yes and no. Martel, the girl from many, many years ago, the girl Mithos gave his life to resurrect... Yes, she is dead. But Mana, the guardian of the Yggdrasill Tree, lives on. I assume there was a day in this last year in which the world's mana dropped noticeably?"

"Yes, that's correct," Raine replied thoughtfully. "Was that the effect of Martel's death?"

"Indeed."

The half-elf brushed her silver hair out of her face, gazing absently at her notebook while her mind sorted through all this new information. After a moment, she lifted her eyes to Kratos's once more.

"That still doesn't explain what _you're_ doing down here."

"Of course it doesn't, I haven't finished yet." This silenced the half-elf, her icy-blue eyes holding a look that could only be described as hungry. Hungry for knowledge, that is. The gaze of a true scholar, her past colleagues had called it, though Genis and his friends called it scary. But that's beside the point.

"Jeremiel wasn't fazed by Martel's death," Kratos continued, his eyes closed. "He named himself ruler, and nobody with the power to stop him was willing to try."

"Who could have stopped him?"

"I was the only one strong enough. I should have killed him the moment I first saw him, but I couldn't bring myself to do it, to hurt Martel like that. His powers grew at an incredible rate; by the time she died, even _I_ would have had to fight my hardest to defeat him. The other angels gained power as well, but never to match mine, and never even close to matching Jeremiel's. I was forced to serve him, and I complied without struggle. After all, what else could I have done? I was outnumbered, a hundred to one. So I served him for quite a while, ruled over Welgaia, kept the peace. Then I found out something he'd never meant anyone to know. Jeremiel had murdered Martel."

This drew a gasp of dismay from the half-elf, and she shook her head in disbelief.

"That's _impossible_! Martel was a _goddess_, you can't just _kill_ a _goddess_!" She protested, and he shook his head.

"If it was impossible, how could he have done it? No, the Martel on Derris-Kharlan was merely Martel. She was as mortal as I am. The more goddessly side of her was still in the two worlds-"

"Symphonia." Raine corrected matter-of-factly.

"-_Symphonia_, not on Derris-Kharlan. I couldn't serve him knowing he killed her, so I fled. I went through the warp gate, like I explained earlier, and I corrupted it behind me. It'll slow them up, but there are other ways off the planet."

Raine was silent. For the first time in her life, she was struck speechless. Glancing down at her notes, she realized she'd stopped taking them after she learned that Martel was dead, having been so wrapped up in the story. Cursing herself silently, she scribbled down the rest of the story, adding a few opinions and side-notes here and there.

When she glanced up, Kratos was struggling to push himself into a seated position. Her eyes widened slightly, and she placed a hand on his shoulder, gently pushing him back down.

"No, don't get up yet. You're wounds aren't fully healed," she objected, but once more, she felt a hand around her wrist, forcefully removing her own hand from his shoulder.

"Raine, I'm a _mercenary_. If I don't get up soon, I'll go absolutely mental. For your safety and mine, let me the hell up." He demanded, his voice holding a slight growl. She sighed in defeat, shaking her head.

"Alright, alright. Just let me make you some Fandalia-petal tea. It'll help with the pain."

Grudgingly, the swordsman laid back down, and Raine scurried off into her kitchen. She put a pot of water on to boil, but when it came time to add the petals, her hand slid past them, grabbing hold of the tin of Saffron and the pouch of dried Amango. She diced a Saffron leaf and two pieces of Amango, letting them soak in the water until a pleasant aroma began to rise from the pot. Immediately the half-elf felt a bit dizzy, and she stepped back away from her tea-making, smiling in satisfaction. She felt bad lying to Kratos, but he needed his rest, and what better way to give it to him than to give him some relaxing tea?

When the steam turned pleasantly red-hued, she doused the fire in the stove, taking the pot off and pouring its contents carefully into a medium-sized cup. Spooning out the chunks of Saffron and Amango for reuse in some other cooking contraption, Raine returned to the seraph, steaming cup in hand. When she offered it to him, he accepted it with a nod of thanks.

She sat back and 'looked over her notes' as he drank the tea, all the while watching him through the corner of her eye.

'_If this were a fairy tale, this sudden appearance of Kratos would begin a long journey that would take us through peril and end us conquering the forces of evil. But this is reality Kratos is a traitor and a fugitive, not a hero, and I... I'm a dirty half-elf, or so they say, not a heroine. And in reality, people can die.'_

"So are you feeling better? The pain should be lessening by now," Raine questioned innocently, knowing full well that it was his awareness that she was hoping would lessen. But there came no reply. She glanced fully at the auburn-haired mercenary, and found him lying on his back, the mug on the floor beside him, his eyes closed peacefully. She crept over, lifting the cup off the carpet. "Kratos?"

Yet again, there was no answer. Her tea had worked.

'_Irony of ironies, the recipe I followed was for _energizing _tea...'_

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Many hours of '_The Harnessing and Deflecting of Mana'_ later, when the sun was starting to set, she glanced at Kratos for what seemed like the fiftieth time. He was still sound asleep.

"Perhaps a lesser dose of tea would have done better?" She murmured contemplatively. "One Amango next time? And a smaller Saffron leaf, as well."

She knew it was necessary though, to sedate him as she had, else he'd never have gotten the rest he needed. His wounds still required time to heal. There was only so much Raine could do.

All of a sudden, there was a rough knocking at her door. Raine cocked her head in confusion; she _never_ had visitors, and why would anyone be knocking at this hour anyways? Nonetheless, she rose fluidly to her feet, jogging over to the door and opening it just wide enough to poke her head out. A man in a green superfluously decorated uniform was standing on her doorstep, an aura of importance about him. Ice-cold fear raced through her veins, but she was careful not to let any of it show.

"Can I help you?"

"By the Grand Order of the Divine, I am granted access to your humble home and freedom of speech to deliver a message from your superiors without fear of being harmed." He commanded, and Raine's eyes widened. Something wasn't right. And, though she didn't know what he wanted quite yet, she knew he couldn't see Kratos.

The half-elf put on a worried look.

"Oh dear..." She put a hand up to her cheek, as if distressed slightly. "I wasn't expecting visitors, and my home is a frightful mess. I'd die of shame if you came in. Mind if I come out there instead?"

He eyed her suspiciously, before nodding curtly. Raine stepped outside and closed the door behind her. Immediately, the man pulled a scroll from one of the seams on his uniform, apparently a well-concealed pocket. Unrolling it, he turned he paper so Raine could see what it contained.

It was a very, very detailed sketch of Kratos.

She could barely contain her shock and dismay. They were already looking for him? How could they have found him so fast?

"This man is a traitor, a thief, and guilty of the highest of treasons. If he's seen, he needs to be turned over to the authorities immediately."

Terror seized her form, but she managed to choke up a few level-voiced words.

"Sir, isn't this that man that traveled with the Chosen One?" She asked with wide-eyed innocence. He sighed in annoyance, apparently hoping this would be the end of his search.

"I must depart. Remember, this man is a dangerous criminal and it is crucial that he is detained." With that, he turned and strode purposefully down the steps. Raine slipped back inside, closing the door firmly and leaning against it. Why had she been so _scared_? The half-elf had gone through much worse than that with a level head. Perhaps this time, she knew that if she slipped up, it could mean Kratos's life? That would be something that would haunt her conscience for the rest of her life, if she sent someone who trusted her to hide them to their death.

Glancing out the window at the distant form of the man, the Professor shuddered slightly. Hastily, she made her way into the living room once more.

The night fell and found her sitting cross-legged on the floor next to the seraph, watching over him as he slept. The angels wouldn't find him. She wouldn't let them.

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**ArissaMay:** Okay, this one's a bit longer than the last, and I think the next one will be longer still. Not positive though. Sorry again that it took so long. I'm a bit disappointed by the review count, but... I suppose that's okay. My story isn't all that good anyways. :P 


	4. Evacuate the Premesis

**ArissaMay:** My gad, I am so overwhelmed right now. Got this fic here, plus now I'm up to FOUR collabs going on on my other account. But ah well, I suppose it can't really be helped. Enjoy!

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Chapter Four

The half-elf didn't sleep a wink that night. Occasionally she'd get tired, but then a rustle or thump would sound outside and she'd jolt wide awake once more, listening tensely until she decided it just an animal or a piece of wood falling off her firewood pile. This was the first time in her life that she'd ever been dead tired and wide awake at the same time, and I assure you, it wasn't very pleasant.

Kratos awoke late the next morning. Though he groaned in discomfort upon awakening, she knew her healing arts had done enough to ease most of the pain, and Raine honestly felt much safer with the mercenary conscious.

"I just thought you may want to know that we had a little visitor while you were gone. He spoke of the Grand Order of the Divine, and he carried a poster with a very lifelike likeness of you," she offered casually, but Kratos jolted upright at her words, murmuring something which sounded vaguely like 'so soon?'

"Kratos?" She started, but he was paying no attention, more focused on the current task of rising to his feet. Her eyes widened, and she rose as well, putting a hand on the man's shoulder. "Kratos, wait! You need rest to finish healing, lay back down!" She demanded, but he once again ignored her, glancing about him warily.

"We're not safe here..." He softly declared, his gaze searching even the most obscure corners of the room for some unseen enemy. Raine's eyes widened, and she smoothed down her silver hair, a habit she'd taken up doing when she was stressed.

"Don't be a fool, of course we're safe. I sent him away under full impressions that I'm merely a half-elven scholar. He didn't suspect a thing. Now lie down, rest!" This time, her voice was more commanding, and her eyes were narrowed slightly in a determined fashion. Kratos seemed immune to her glare, however.

"We're safe _now_ maybe, but not for long. Jeremiel knows I landed somewhere over here, so when all the other houses turn up clear, they'll all come back to the woman who wouldn't let them in. If we're here when they do, we won't be for long," He explained, and Raine's eyes widened slightly once again. What had he done to merit such drastic measures to locate him. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously at the seraph, and he gazed back levelly.

"They seem quite desperate to locate you..." She observed, her voice slow as to hint that she required an explanation.

"Indeed," he replied, dismissing her 'requirements' without missing a beat. "Now pack your things, we leave at dusk."

As the seraph turned his back to walk over to the nearest window, she shuffled indignantly, staring after him with a mutinous glare. Who was he to show up on her doorstep, practically force her to heal him, force her to lie to the angel monarchy to hide him, then leave her in the dark as to the full extent of their situation?

That Kratos sure had some nerve, that was for sure. When Raine Sage wanted answers, she got them. And she wasn't going to let that stop now.

But first, her eyes widened in realization.

"Wait, _we_?" The scholar demanded incredulously. "Last time I checked, _you_ were the fugitive."

He turned on her, his face a mask of surprise and slight annoyance. She rose to full height to supplement her dignity, which was being seriously threatened by his 'I can't believe you can't figure this out yourself' look.

"Raine, whether or not I'm here when they search the place, they'll likely kill you anyways. Do you _really_ want to be here for that?"

With icy blue eyes and a mutinous stare, Raine gazed at Kratos a moment, trying to decide whether to submit to his decisions and instructions and allow him authority or to stand up for herself. After a moment, she sighed in exasperation, rubbing her temples.

"Alright," the half-elf admitted defeat, turning to her table full of notes and beginning to stack them into orderly piles. "You sure have some nerve, dragging me into this mess and not telling me a thing," she grumbled under her breath, and she saw him twitch slightly in annoyance, signifying that he'd heard her despite her quiet tone.

Too bad she only remembered his angel senses _after_ she'd complained under her breath, for the scholar generally frowned upon such complaining.

"Surely you don't intend to bring them all?" Kratos inquired skeptically, though it took Raine a moment before she realized he meant her notes. She drew herself up to full height, ready to stand her ground.

"Surely you don't expect me to leave them here? I've spent half of my life collecting these and I don't intend to let any old fool study them." She reasoned, and Kratos made a noise similar to a scoff.

"I don't think they'll take much interest in your _notes_, Raine. Besides, in all likelihood this place will be reduced to ashes by this time tomorrow." Raine searched his eyes for a hint that he may be joking, but his gaze and voice were level. Her eyes then widened in disbelief.

"You're not _serious_, are you?"

"Dead serious."

The scholar very much appreciated his choice of wording, when she was barely keeping her cool as it was.

"What the hell did you _do_, anyways? Generally the angel monarch doesn't send his most powerful forces after a single man," she reasoned, but he turned away. She drew herself up imposingly, that determined look in her eyes once more, and marched over to stand before him, getting as far up in his face as she'd ever gotten in anyone's.

"No, don't you _dare_ turn away! You show up at my door, and I heal you and welcome you and you drag me into this whole huge power struggle and _you don't tell me what the hell's going on_? I think not, Kratos Aurion. I demand answers, and I demand them _now_."

The mercenary's eyes widened slightly. Apparently he hadn't been expecting her to become as forceful as she had. He sighed in defeat.

"I am a deserter and a murderer. I caused many unnecessary deaths to ensure my escape, the acts of a coward." Kratos's voice was soft, and he was no longer able to meet her gaze. She cocked her head slightly, curious as to what caused the sudden change in his attitude.

His voice... Now that she reflected upon it, it had seemed angry, to some degree. But who would he be angry at? Was... Was it that he was angry at himself? Yes, that _must _be it. Angry at himself for his 'acts of cowardice'.

Raine felt a sudden pang of sympathy for the seraph, and after a moment of silence and hesitation, she placed a hand on his arm, a supportive gesture. Immediately upon contact, he jerked his arm away with a 'hmph'. She sighed, her next words sincerer than any that day.

"At least you had the courage to leave. If it were me, I'd still be up there, too scared to try and escape."

"No," he disputed without missing a beat. "It was cowardice for me to flee at first hint of danger. If I had stayed, as was my duty..."

Though the mercenary trailed off, his point was clear. Raine sighed once more.

"If you insist." There was a pause, and then, "But I _am_ taking my notes with me. Knowledge such as this is too precious to forsake."

Kratos 'hmph'ed. "Just don't expect me to carry it."

"Fair enough, though I was hoping you wouldn't say that."

Within ten minutes, she'd crammed her notes, as well as some other objects of scientific and archaeological importance in a worn leather pack. Kratos eyed her finished product with amusement.

"Now tell me, do you intend to wear those same clothes through our entire journey? Because I don't think another square inch of matter can fit itself in that bag," he observed, and she grudgingly admitted that he was right.

"But I simply cannot leave any of it behind... Hmm..." Raine sank down on the nearest chair, pondering her dilemma. "AHA!"

The next few minutes was a thunder of sorting out more valuable items to take and at the same time searching for something which seemed incredibly important to the mercenary, judging by the franticity with which she made her search. The house turned from a hovel to an absolute disaster-zone, and he did himself well by staying out of her way.

"What exactly are you searching for?" He inquired tentatively as a pillow flew straight over his ducked head.

"An object of... extreme capacity, and... relative importance to... my studies!" She informed him in rhythm with her tossing of items.

"And that would be...?"

"The Cobalt Pack!" She cried in triumph, holding a small orb up in the air like one would a bottle of miracle-cure. Kratos raised an eyebrow.

"You searched all this time... for that?"

"Admittedly it doesn't _look_ like much, but... watch!" The excited staff-wielder proceeded to remove the contents of the pack, tossing it into some obscure corner. She then stood back from the pile, and pressed a small button on the orb. One by one, the items began to disappear, until the floor was clear.

"It's a-"

"Modified Wing-Pack," she concluded with a victorious smirk-grin on her face. As he extended a hand, she reluctantly handed it over, watching closely as he looked over the orb.

"Very well-built. Where did you get this?"

"I crafted it myself," Raine replied with a hint of pride in her voice.

"I should have guessed. No wonder I've never seen one before. Thank the heavens it's not as faulty as your cooking, however, else it'd be spewing items out every which way."

He smirked at her look of indignant offense, and after a moment, she smirked in return.

"Remind me to cook you dinners from now on."

"Heh, don't count on it."

The teasing coming to a conclusion, she snatched her invention back from the seraph, slipping it into her robe pocket. She looked around, then reclaimed the pack out of the corner, deciding it useful after all. After a trip into the kitchen filled it half-full, she packed a couple of changes of clothes and a few other necessities. Snatching her rod from the corner, she swung it experimentally. Once satisfied, Raine heaved the pack up onto her shoulder.

"Are you ready?" Kratos asked, and Raine glanced out the window at the slowly falling sun.

"Do I have much choice?"

"Well, unless you wish to stay here and be killed, you-"

"Alright, alright, yes, I'm ready." She cut him off, and he nodded in affirm.

The next few minutes were spent walking down the beach, the crisp air chilling her to the bone. Raine hadn't bothered to lock her door; there was nothing worth anything left behind. Turning, she took one last look back at her cozy little cottage.

"So where to?"

She jerked back to gaze at Kratos, a look of confusion on her face.

"You're asking _me_?"

"Well, I figured you're sick of being left out of decisions, and it'd be bad for both of us if you got fed up and left."

She snorted, not too happy about how easily he read her irritation, but nodded. "You choose, I've not been out of Sybak for nearly three years."

"We'll head off to see Lloyd, then. Jeremiel may come after him and the Chosen next, them being angels as well, and we'd do best to warn them." He decided, as if he'd had this planned all along. She nodded nonetheless.

"To Iselia, then."

"To Iselia."

* * *

**ArissaMay:** Okay, maybe not as long as the last one, but I have a pretty long chapter for this next one, so… bear with me. :p Read and review please, I'll answer every one! 


	5. The Tempest Strikes Back

**ArissaMay:** Okay, this one I think is gonna be a longer one. Not sure though. Your reviews are all appreciated. :D

* * *

Chapter Five

"You're kidding me, right?"

The half-elven scholar was standing on the edge of solid land, eying her traveling partner in skepticism and disbelief. He was standing about ten feet out on the dock, by a somewhat unsteady-looking washtub.

"How else do you expect us to get to the northern continent?" Kratos replied simply, and Raine shook her head in refusal.

"Um... Well... I don't know, but surely you don't intend to ride in _that_?" She reasoned, but he remained where he was, silent. After a moment, he began to smirk ever-so-slightly.

"You're afraid." His smirk grew even wider, and she ran her fingers through her hair in an attempt at indifference.

"No, I'm just not getting on that thing, that's all," Raine stated simply, her arms crossed in an unconsciously defensive stance.

"Fine," he shrugged, stepping into the washtub and steadying himself on the dock as it swayed precariously under the added weight. "Stay here then. It's only a matter of time before the angels find you."

And with that, he untied the rope, and shoved away from the dock. And another thing... He had the pack of supplies. Raine's eyes widened, and she raced out onto the dock, none too fond of being left to herself. Taking a flying leap, she barely cleared the edge of the tub, tumbling onto its floor and sending it lurching to the left. The half-elf bit her lip, trying with all her will-power not to forfeit her dignity, scream in terror, and cling to Kratos. As it was, her hand was clamped down with unearthly strength on the side, the grip so tight that her nails were digging into the wood and her knuckles were white.

As the washtub slowly steadied itself, she grew less and less certain that she was going to drown, and when it finally leveled out, she sighed in relief, letting out a breath she hadn't known she was holding. Her grip slowly loosened from the rim of the tub, though it still rested there in case the tub were to lurch again. And it did.

Kratos had decided it was time to paddle away from shore, where the current could catch them and save them the effort. She hadn't noticed this, of course, until his paddle first hit the water and his stroke sent the makeshift boat tilting to the right.

"_We'regonnadie_!" She shrieked, her nails digging into the wood once more. The seraph hesitated at this, eyeing her in what seemed to be a mix of surprise and amusement. Drawing the paddle back in and resting it against the side, he sat down opposite her.

"Not afraid, hmm?"

She could tell how hard he was fighting not to look contemptuous, and an indignant glare was shot his way. This seemed only to make him even _more_ amused, however, and with a half growl, half groan of exasperation, she turned away.

Bad idea.

The waves were picking up, now that they were drifting out to sea, and some of them were tall enough to clear the edge of the tub. The Professor once again realized how completely and utterly stupid sailing across a sea in a washtub was, and even moreso, she realized how thoroughly her fear of water gripped her. Her icy-blue eyes, usually so calm and collected, held the fear of a rabbit cornered by a hungry wolf, the same haunted look.

"Raine?" Kratos prompted in uncertainty. He'd never seen her like this before, not even when facing Mithos Yggdrasill himself on the mana planet, Derris-Kharlan.

At his voice, she jerked to face him, but before he could comment further she shut her eyes, shaking her head as if trying to push something away.

"Raine?" He ventured again.

"Hydrophobia," she mumbled in response, her head in her hands as she still struggled to clear it. "Acute hydrophobia. Extremely hysterogenic, transpires unerringly in a direct response to the presence of large bodies of water, paralyzing to an overwhelming degree-"

"Raine-"Kratos attempted, but she continued on as if she hadn't noticed, some of the words even too soft or quickly uttered to comprehend. After a few more phrases of scientific mumbling, he tried again. "Raine!"

His voice was commanding, which silenced her, and she brought her gaze up to meet his, slowly, already feeling self-conscious about her panic-attack. Yet he was no longer cynical. Now, he was concerned.

"What happened?" He questioned softly, and she snorted.

"What, is it unheard of for people to have uncontrollable fears for no apparent reason?" The half-elf shot back, and he shrugged, shaking the tub slightly and causing her hand to shoot to the edge once again.

"It's very rare, and never as bad as this." He stated, and she looked indignant.

"It's not _that_ bad."

"Ah really? Raine, you screamed, then curled up and rambled like a loon. I think that qualifies as 'that bad', don't you?" A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, and she glared at him again.

"Well if you find this all so _terribly funny_,-"

"I don't, really. Now... What happened?"

There was a silence between them, his gaze on the scholar expectantly, and her own troubled gaze on her knees. After what seemed like forever, a length of time that few besides Kratos had the patience to wait, she sighed in defeat.

"When I was with my mother and father," Raine began hesitantly, "we... We were being chased, so we fled onto a ship. But... The pursuers soon caught up to us, and... I fell into the ocean. It was winter then, and the water was cold enough to freeze you in minutes. I... I didn't know how to swim. I was swept away by the currents... and I thought I was going to die..."

Kratos's eyes widened slightly, awaiting the next part of the tale, but it didn't come.

"What happened then?" He prompted, all to aware of the similarity between his words and those of a child at storytime, but choosing to ignore that little detail for the time being.

She shook her head, biting her lip as if on the verge of tears. Her silver hair fell over her eyes.

"I don't remember."

Her voice was so soft that he scarcely heard her, yet he could sense the pain these memories brought.

"What do you mean, you don't remember?" He questioned in surprise. Surely she remembered. She remembered the rest so clearly...

"I mean I don't effing remember, alright?" She snapped, her voice unsteady. After a moment, she explained, softer. "The next thing I remember is waking up in a strange place, a strange _world_. I don't know how long it was between when I nearly died, and when I woke up outside the Martel Temple, but... As hard as I try, I can't remember it. Any of it..."

A stab of sympathy for the troubled half-elf raced through Kratos, but he could think of no words to help her. "Raine..."

"I know we were left at the Otherworldly Gate. It seems so _familiar_, yet at the same time, I can't remember ever seeing it. When... When I was told of how me and Genis were abandoned, and sent through to Sylvarant, it was like... It was like someone were telling me a depressing story, like it happened to someone else," she continued, her voice growing more and more unsteady. "_I can't remember any of it_."

He was silent, unable to even begin to comprehend how that must feel. His first reaction was to ask why, but he bit his tongue, knowing that more questions would probably distress her further. So they sat in silence. And, eventually, Raine seemed to calm herself somewhat, though her eyes never lost that haunted look that had come over them the moment she stepped into the tub.

After a couple of hours, the shore was in view. Kratos hesitated, unwilling to rock the boat with his paddling and send her into another hydrophobic panic, but he couldn't find any way around it. Slowly sliding the paddle over the edge again, the seraph paddled onward, as gently as possible. And, though she tensed like a creature readying to flee, she made no other move, or declarations of their imminent death. Quite a success, in his opinion.

The moment they reached the shore, Raine frantically threw herself onto the dock, falling to her knees in relief, and immediately her collected aura returned. When their gazes met once more, moments after he joined her on the dock, the haunted look was gone.

Raine was back.

A man stood on the shore end of said dock, watching the two in uncertainty. Without thought, Kratos glared at him. _What, hadn't he ever seen an acute hydrophobic before?_

Upon realizing he was glaring, the seraph cleared his features of all but the usual blank look, striding up to the man in question.

"When's the next tub to Neo-Palmacosta?" He asked levelly, but the man looked at him as if he'd asked something in lunacy. "Is there a problem?"

"You can't go out in _that_! I'm surprised you made it over here without capsizing, let alone going out in that storm!"

Kratos sensed Raine's shock at the man's words, and he quickly made to clear things up.

"We had no troubles. The sea was perfectly calm." The mercenary objected, and the man's eyes widened.

"Pure luck, that's what it is. You must have passed through just before it started. You can't go back out there _now_!"

"I believe it's our choice what we do and don't do." He replied firmly, and the man shook it's head.

"Sure it is, drown for all I care! I'm just not risking my tubs for some fools to go wreck. They're my living, y'know. You'll have to find your own way over. Now get the hell off my dock, I don't want you two makin' any funny business!"

Kratos had half a mind to take out his sword and teach this asshole a lesson, but he refrained from such rash actions. Instead, he reached inside himself and drew out his wings, causing the man to jump back so hastily he fell over backwards.

"Alright, we will."

Though the brunette's words were somewhat agreeable, his tone was cool enough to freeze ice. The man seemed terrified enough to give them _all_ his washtubs, but Kratos didn't want to bother anymore. He stepped back to Raine, flapping his wings for good measure.

"We fly then." His statement widened her eyes, and she backed away, shaking her head.

"No we do _not_ fly!" She objected, but he was quick to reply.

"Is it honestly any worse than that rickety old washtub?"

She sighed in defeat. "No, I suppose not."

"Besides, we have to get to Lloyd's. If we stay in an inn, someone is bound to report us..." He paused, realization flickering in his eyes. "Which brings me, regrettably, to my next task."

With this, the swordsman turned, drew Flamberge, and in one fluid motion, he ran it through the washtub man. The man only had time to gasp in surprise before he fell, lifeless, to the ground. Calmly as can be, Kratos crouched and cleansed his sword in the salt water, while Raine gazed at the body in horror.

"You just... He didn't... Why!?"

"Simple." The seraph replied, though a hint of regret was in his tone. "I realize that, though he was a despicable being, and I can't say I didn't enjoy that, he was innocent, but that left us with the problem of, what if he told someone? Would you rather leave him alive and risk our lives?"

She paused, considering this, before sighing. "Well it's too late now, anyways."

"That it is. Now, are you ready?"

"No, but I'm as ready as I'll ever be." The half-elf replied resignedly.

Wordlessly, Kratos reached down and scooped the woman up in his arms, and with a flutter of his wings, they were airborne.

The moment the pair were over the ocean, Raine let out a tortured squeak, her arms almost choking-tight around Kratos's neck and her face buried in his shirt. Though, she admitted to herself, this wasn't as bad without the unsteady rocking of the tub and the crashing of the waves so close. If she really tried, she could even pretend there _wasn't_ over a million gallons of icy sea water waiting below her to swallow her up.

And the half-elf was doing just that when the first roll of thunder jolted her from her daydreaming.

She squeaked in alarm once more, her throat so tight in alarm that no more dignified sound could even be attempted, and wrapped her arms even tighter around his neck.

Then the rain came.

It wasn't just a sprinkle either. It pounded down, hard and fast, each drop seeming almost as solid as a stone. But it was impossible to pick out any one drop, for the rain came down in a solid sheet.

Raine tucked her face to his chest again, and felt him turn his own, offering the side of his head to the storm instead. Her stomach lurched as she felt him sway unsteadily under the pressure of a particularly hard gust of wind; he couldn't _fall_, could he? He was a _seraph_... Surely he was stronger than the wind.

All of a sudden, with a violent _CRASH_, lightning lit up the sky. The sea below was illuminated, and she could see waves forming that were tall enough to take out a house. Frantically, the scholar looked around for some sign of land, something besides water to keep her sane, but every inch of water her eyes took in made her more and more panicked. There was no land in sight.

Thunder crashed and lightning flashed once more, and in that exact moment a torrent of wind rammed them like a charging bull. Kratos was sent wheeling back, flapping his wings frantically to regain control, but finding himself at the mercy of the wind. Still out of control, the wind caught his left wing, sending him into a barrel roll.

Neither of them knew what caused it, whether it was the slick quality the rain gave everything, the wind's driving torrents, gravity working against them, or a combination of all three, but, to the mercenary's horror, he felt his grip on Raine begin to slip. And to Raine's own horror, she felt herself begin to fall.

For Raine, everything was in slow motion; Kratos's look of determination swiftly shift to one of dismay, his arm lunging out to catch her, but just barely touching her fingertips before she was out of reach and the wind sent him barrel-rolling away once more, her crying his name in terror, but her words getting lost in the wind, and the vast expanse of water growing closer and closer, a monster waiting to kill her, feast on her flesh, the flesh it was deprived of years ago.

Yet for Kratos, everything moved almost too fast to comprehend. One second she was there, the next she was gone, falling, while he still struggled to gain control of his flight, the wind trying to force him into submission. But Kratos, more than anybody else, resented being forced into submission.

Letting out a war cry filled with rage, frustration, and determination, he swung out his arms to fight the rolling motions, ready to wage war with the elements themselves. But, as if recognizing his might, the wind slowed. Sure, the rain still poured, if not even angrier-seeming than before, but the wind let up to a manageable gust. And then his gaze turned down to the water, to Raine, just as she landed with a splash. His eyes widened as he recalled their former conversation. _She can't swim! _

Kratos made to dive after her, but hesitated. If he went down, surely a wave would catch him, drag him down, and drown him as well.

But all of a sudden, the storm, the waves, everything was replaced by an all to familiar scene. He was standing, sword in hand, Anna bleeding to death at his feet because she had depended on him, but he had been unable to save her from Cruxis.

Then the storm was back, and the sea was below once more. But the vision of his dead wife, red and soaked with her own blood, was overwhelming still. She had died, because he couldn't save her.

Kratos refused to let that happen to Raine.

He drew in his wings, and immediately dove into free-fall, gravity taking hold. He shifted carefully so he was in a streamlined position, hands together over his head, eyes closed, waiting for the impact. The seraph dove down, through the storm, and, at what seemed like light-speed, he closed the distance between himself and the water.

The mercenary hit with enough pressure to shatter the bones in both of his hands, but he felt no pain, nor the chill of the water, so strong was his desire to save the half-elf from drowning.

For a moment, Kratos was disoriented by the current, and he struggled to get his bearings in the raging waters. The seraph felt water forced into his lungs, and he coughed violently, only to draw in more. _Am I to drown here? No, I can't! I have to find Raine!_

And at that very thought, he did just that. With his keen eyes, he spotted the flash of her silver hair, sinking slowly toward the bottom. She seemed dead, and made no motion to convince him otherwise, but still he fought his way toward her, fighting the current with all his strength. Despite this, he seemed to get no closer, only farther away. After what seemed like miles, when his strength and his lungs were about to give out, he reached her. Snagging her by the sleeve and wrapping an arm around her middle, he fought weakly toward the surface. His lungs seemed ready to burst, and the edges of his vision were blurry, but he refused to give up.

At last, with a gasp, Kratos broke free of the water's clutches. It was then that he realized how frigidly cold he was, despite his tolerance to heat and chill, as well as the pain in his hands. He thought to call upon First Aid, but he found his tongue unable to form the words, so instead, he drew out his wings and began to flap. But something was wrong. He wasn't flying.

Flapping harder, he fought to gain air, to lift from the ocean's icy grip. At last, he managed to lift them both from the waves, and with his remaining strength, he set off, flying weakly toward Iselia.

-----

The moment his feet touched down on the porch of the fairly well-endowed house in Iselia Woods, the seraph's strength finally gave out. He practically collapsed against Lloyd's door, —_I seem to have a habit of doing that, don't I?_, he thought dryly— barely managing to keep on his feet. If he hadn't had Raine's safety to worry about, his legs would have buckled right then and there, but he refused to fall completely, for fear that the impact would hurt the half-elf worse.

Yes, she was alive, but barely. He had found this out within minutes after the flight began once more, when she finally coughed up the water in her lungs. She had yet to awaken, but at least she was alive.

The door was thrown open, revealing a very surprised Colette Brunel. Her eyes widened in shock.

-----

Inside the house, a brown-haired swordsman was whittling at a little heart-shaped trinket. It would be Colette's birthday soon, and this time, his gift would be _on time_.

"Lloyd!" Called Colette's voice from the hall, and he sensed uncertainty and distress in her tone. Slipping the trinket into his pocket, he stood and hurried into the hall to find out what was wrong.

"Colette? What's the mat-"

His words were cut short by the scene before him.

The door was open to the storm, and Colette was ushering a soaked figure into the house. When if lifted it's head to see who had joined them, he met a pair of hauntingly familiar eyes. Eyes that matched the stranger's hair, and his own, at that matter.

"Dad!?" Lloyd choked in disbelief.

Yes, it was Kratos Aurion, the father who had disappeared on a goddessforsaken planet within a year of his reentering Lloyd's life.

"Professor!?" Squeaked Colette, eyes wide.

Yes, it was Raine, their very own Professor Raine Sage, in the arms of Lloyd's seraph father, looking even worse off than he did.

"The Professor-"

"-will be fine." Kratos finished, cutting Lloyd off before he could think the situation worse than it was. "She just needs somewhere to rest."

Colette nodded, apparently too shocked to speak, turning and leading him down the wide hall and opening a door at the end. She entered, and he followed. They were in a small, cozy room, with a comfortable-looking bed. He went to place her on the bed, but paused. They were both soaking wet, and the bed would do her no good if it got as soaked as she did.

"And some dry clothes?" He continued, receiving a nod of obedience. Satisfied, he handed the limp half-elf to Colette, carefully, before recalling that she had angelic strength as well. "I'm going to speak with Lloyd."

Without waiting for a reply, he turned and exited the room, closing the door softly behind him. Walking back up the hall, he entered the room from which Lloyd emerged earlier on, and found the swordsman at work at some sort of whittling project. Lloyd hastily shoved it behind his back, before realizing it was Kratos who approached and heaving a sigh of relief. Yet neither of them said anything, and the silence grew awkward, each one just staring at the other. Kratos was now acutely aware of his soggy appearance, and how the remnants of the storm puddled wherever he stood.

Clearing his throat awkwardly, the seraph strode over, glancing over his son's shoulder at the trinket.

"I see you've taken up whittling?" He inquired, making conversation.

"It's for Colette," the swordsman was hasty to point out, and Kratos nodded.

"Understandable. Females seem to love that sort of thing."

Lloyd nodded in agreement. "Yeah. For some reason, they do."

"Of course, they probably think, 'why do men always want weapons?', so I suppose we're about even," Kratos chuckled in reply, and Lloyd shrugged, grinning sheepishly.

"What's not to like about weapons? I mean, they're sharp, shiny, and you can kill stuff with them!" Lloyd's face lit up, and his father chuckled once more, shaking his head.

"Though I'm not the expert on women, I have noticed that they seem less inclined toward violence than men, most of the time."

"Oh..." Lloyd paused. "So maybe I shouldn't take her hunting anymore? I mean, she says it's fun, but..."

"Indeed, that might be wise."

There was a pause, in which Lloyd appeared to be pondering something important, before he opened his mouth to speak once more.

"Dad, why-"

But he was cut off as the blonde angel bounced into the room, apparently recovered from her earlier shock and bearing good news.

"The Professor is okay!" She chirped gleefully. "She's dry and resting right now."

Kratos nodded in satisfaction, and Lloyd smiled as well. The seraph noticed as his son slipped the trinket in his pocket, almost too subtly to notice. None too soon either, for Colette took a seat on the couch just beside him. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, watching Kratos with an almost uncertain look, for this was the first time his father had seen them officially together. The seraph in question smiled warmly, nodding in approval, which is just what Lloyd needed to draw the tiny angel closer. She giggled, resting her head comfortably against his shoulder.

"Dad, why are you here? Weren't you on Derris Kharlan? I could have sworn I saw you leave..."

The questions had come once more, just as they had from Raine. Kratos reiterated his tale as best he could, the couple's eyes growing wider and wider with each sentence spoke.

"-and that's why I'm here. I apologize to you both for dragging you into this, but I knew that if I didn't, Jeremiel's forces would."

There was a shocked silence for a moment, before Colette rose to her feet.

"I'm going to go check on Raine," she offered, but the seraph shook his head, rising as well.

"No, I'll do it. You two need time to talk, I'm assuming, and my presence is only interrupting that."

And once again, he left without waiting for an answer, striding down the hall to the room where Raine was resting. Silently opening the door, he entered the cozy room, and closed it just as gently behind him. There she was, sleeping soundly on the bed. Her hair still seemed damp, but not as much as his, which had only recently stopped dripping.

Kratos watched her sleep a moment, so peacefully. He remembered the look of horror that had contorted her face only hours before... And the seraph preferred this peaceful state.

He stepped toward her, reaching out a hand to gently touch her forehead, to check if she had caught some sort of hypothermia. But her eyes flew open the second he touched her skin, and within seconds she had begun to ramble under her breath once more.

"This is physically impossible, he dropped me, I drowned, I remember it, I can't be here, this is an illusio-"

"Raine?" He prompted, and for the first time, her eyes acknowledged his presence. She seemed shocked to see him.

"You rescued me?" Her voice was full of disbelief, and even a note of gratitude. He couldn't hold her gaze, knowing full well that she was thankful for him rescuing her from something that was his fault to begin with.

"Hmph." He turned away. It was only then that she noticed how extremely exhausted he appeared.

"Why?" Raine demanded, but he made a lesser 'hmph'ing noise in reply.

"That's not for you to know."

And before she could demand an explanation, he turned and strode from the room.

All eyes were upon him as he re-entered the room that could only be called the den, and he offered, "She's awake."

Colette's face lit up, and Lloyd grinned as well, reaching out with his foot to scoot a chair out from under a nearby table, gesturing for Kratos to take it. He gratefully took a seat, almost overwhelmed by fatigue.

The rest of the night passed fairly uneventfully. Raine emerged a bit later, but mentioned nothing of their conversation aside from shooting him a few curious glances, and they talked for quite a while.

"Well, I'm gonna turn in," Lloyd yawned finally, at least an hour after midnight. Colette had fallen asleep on his shoulder, and at that point he took her in his arms, holding her in a much more comfortable sleeping position with the cushioned arm of the couch as her pillow. "Why don't you two stay a while? We have room, and it'll be nice to visit for a while."

Raine smiled warmly at her former student, and Kratos nodded, smiling slightly as well.

"We'd enjoy that," she offered, rising to her feet. "And I think I'll turn in as well."

Lloyd rose to his feet, drawing Colette up to his chest so as to carry her in to their room. "Kratos-?"

"I'll be fine on the couch." He stated, and the swordsman nodded, following Raine from the room. And within minutes, the seraph was asleep, dreaming peacefully. No matter what he says, deep down, he knew that this, Symphonia, was truly home.

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**ArissaMay:** Sorry it took so long! Seriously. Feel free to smack me. x.X 


	6. Complications Arise

**ArissaMay:** This'll be a shorty. Kinda a filler chapter, mostly at least. I hope it's at least okay. I just was in a romancy mood… Though this isn't quite romance yet. Heh. So sorry I took so long. I have so much going on. But Z-O-M-G, the reviews! There's twelve for that last chapter! TWELVE! Do you know how spectacular that made me feel? I've always dreamed of twelve reviews in one chapter! –faints-

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Chapter Six

"_Don't kill Aurion quite yet. There's been... a bit of a change in plans."_

"_What changed your mind?"_

"_I need to get to _her_..."_

"_Who, boss?"_

" _The being of infinite knowledge and beauty. Raine... Raine Sage."_

_-----_

'Twas the night of arrival, and all through the house, not a creature was stirring... Not even Raine Sage. That's right. The sleep-deprived half-elf slept all through the night, and half of the morning as well, not even waking when Colette flying-tackled Lloyd with a massive _THUMP_ in the front room. Raine, the light sleeper, the early riser, slept 'till noon.

At sunhigh, she slowly opened her eyes, stretching her limbs contentedly. That had been a very satisfying sleep, if she did say so herself. She felt renewed, invigorated. It had been a long, long time since she'd slept that well. And she found herself smiling idly, with no real cause or purpose.

Until she looked at the clock.

"TWELVE 'O' CLOCK?!" She demanded with wide eyes.

"Yes, Raine, and congratulations on learning to identify two-digit numbers."

The half-elf whirled in alarm, to come face to face with a smug-looking seraph, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed. She knew by the casual alertness in his gaze that he'd been up for hours.

And here she was, disoriented, disheveled, and with a bed-head to set records. She made a small note of distress in her throat, but cut it off before he could catch her panic, and she ran a hand 'casually' through her hair to soothe it. This only made his smirk widen, however, so she forfeited her cool façade and whirled to make her bed, glaring fiercely at the covers as if each one bore his face.

"What the hell are you doing, invading my privacy at this hou-" She stopped, realizing this complaint was invalid. "Invading my privacy _when I was_ _sleeping_!" The half-elf fervently seethed, and she heard him shift uncomfortably, as if surprised by her temper. _Well, get used to it, Aurion, if you're going to keep pissing me off._

After a moment, he offered, "they sent me to wake you. Wondered if you'd died in your sleep or something of that nature. After all... _it is noon_." She whirled on him in anger, to find the mercenary gesturing pointedly at the clock, infuriating her further.

"If you'd been so good at telling time when you thought we could outrun that storm, I wouldn't have nearly _died_. So don't _you_ lecture _me_ on time." She snarled, turning her back on him in a livid dismissal. To her surprise, he merely muttered something incomprehendable, and left. She peeked at the door from the corner of her eye, to find that he had, in fact, left her alone. A slight pang of disappointment pricked her in the chest; he _had_ saved her, after all. Sure, she was angry, but she hadn't wanted to leave it like that.

But she was _Professor Raine Sage_, for Martel's sake, and she was too fond of her dignity to chase after him now. Forcing herself to return to the task at hand, she made her bed, smoothing it out so it was left better than she had found it. Stepping back, she examined her handiwork.

With a self-satisfied nod that only the Professor could accomplish correctly, she turned and strode confidently from the room. As confident as she could manage, of course, with the possibility of running into the one she owed her sincerest apologies at any moment. Of course, it _was_ his fault. He _did_ do it on _purpose_, after all.

But... she was still remorseful for her harsh words. He may have deserved something, but not necessarily that. Maybe a slap or two, but not that. Funny how words can be crueler than violence sometimes, isn't it?

She stepped into the front room, to the relieved smiles of her two former students.

"See, I told you she was alive!" Colette bubbled, grinning. Lloyd glanced at the Professor sheepishly, ashamed to have even questioned her survival.

"I _knew_ she was alive, you dork, I was just joking around with Dad, of course!" He quickly offered, offering her a hopeful glance. Raine smiled, accepting the humor of the joke, and the boy smiled in relief.

"Speaking of Kratos," Raine started, attempting at a casual tone, "whereabouts is he?"

"He said he was heading out, I dunno where he went," the twin-swordsman shrugged helplessly. The scholar couldn't help but feel disappointed.

"Any idea when he's to return?" She questioned, keeping her hopefulness far clear of her voice.

"He said he'd be gone all day." This was Colette, and she tilted her head slightly. "Why? Did he forget something?"

"No, I was just curious." The Professor tried to sound nonchalant, but she wasn't sure they believed it, and she was quite relieved when Lloyd changed the subject.

"So, whatcha gonna do today, Professor?" He asked pleasantly, and she cocked her head slightly, unsure of the question herself. What _would_ she do?

"I think," she slowly started, "I think I'll head into Iselia. Catch up with old friends."

"You had _friends_?" Lloyd blurted in shock the moment she finished. At both females' stunned looks, he quickly averted his gaze, scratching his neck embarrassedly. "Ah, no, that didn't come out right."

"I should hope _not_." Raine agreed, surprised and somewhat hurt at his disbelief.

"What I meant to say is... I thought me and Colette and Genis were your friends." He grinned, as if that were enough of an answer, but it still stung somewhat to know that the swordsman doubted her social skills as he did. Of course, she doubted them as well, but that was _different_.

"Of _course_ the Professor has friends, silly! She's... the Professor!" Colette giggled, and that eased some of the sting a little to have her title used as proof that she wasn't a _total_ recluse. Some. Offering a somewhat wounded smile, she stepped back toward the door.

"I'll be off now. I'd like to head out before the area's fauna emerges to roam." Turning, Raine spotted her staff leaning against a wall. Though she hadn't expected to see it there, she picked it up as if it'd been left there for a reason, and continued toward the door without missing a beat.

"Oh, Professor, the monsters!" Lloyd called, tripping in his haste to follow her the moment he recalled the definition of 'fauna'. She sighed, turning to face him. "I'll come with you. To protect you and stuff." He assumed a somewhat proud posture, with his hands on his hips, but he grinned despite himself and ruined the façade.

"No, Lloyd, I think I'll do fine by myself. Thank you though." And without giving him time to object, she turned and stepped out the door.

She was greeted by a vibrant earthy clearing, the greens nearly as radiant as if they were painted there with the finest paint, and the browns likewise earthy and reassuring. The grass glistened in the noon air, still moist from the previous night's storm, but the half-elf could feel the sun on her face and her hair, and she doubted it'd be wet for too long. Stepping slowly off the porch, she raised her face to the sun, soaking in it's warmth and, of course, it's Vitamin C.

"_Mmmmmm_..."

There was a stiff, damp, achy cold that had settled itself into her bones and joints in the storm the night before, but she hadn't noticed it until now. Now, the sun seemed to be drawing the stiffness, the dampness, and the chill from every crevice of her body, renewing her and giving her life.

After a minute or so, she sighed contentedly, opening her eyes and gazing about her once more. The half-elf stretched her arms above her head, as she had done upon waking up, then, in a spur-of-the-moment bit of energy, she spun her staff about in an intricate formation before slicing it in a horizontal line, a showy battle move. After a pause, she drew it back toward her, in a vertical line from between her feet up along her nose and forehead, and paused there, still as a statue.

A few moments later, she relaxed, stealing a quick glance around her to ensure that her antics weren't spotted. Upon verifying that she was truly alone, the staff-wielder grinned, despite her careful composure. It felt good to be back. Hell, it felt good to be _out_. Now, it was off to Iselia.

_And goddess show mercy on any soul who intended to stop her._

Setting off at a brisk pace, she strode down the semi-worn path with her staff against her shoulder and her keen gaze on the road ahead. She wondered briefly how far out her students truly lived, and if she should have asked to borrow a pair of trekking shoes for the trip, but at that moment she spotted the point where her path intersected with the clear-marked road to Iselia.

Raine found herself speeding up slightly, eager to reach the village where she grew up. It had been a while since she'd anticipated something so much as she was anticipating her arrival. It felt _good_, to have something to truly look forward to.

The half-elf turned onto the real path with a satisfying thump, her boot colliding with the more solid earth of the worn-down road. Iselia was in sight, the sounds of it's livelihood vaguely reaching her from it's streets. Yet she found that something made her stop. Maybe she wasn't as keen to return as she thought she was? _No,_ the Professor shook her head. She was looking forward to it as much as Lloyd looked forward to an adventure. But... Maybe she needed a moment to prepare first.

It was then that she realized that she was standing in the middle of the road. Logically, that shouldn't matter, but, she thought to herself, what if this path was more traveled than it had been when she was last here? She could block traffic, or get hit by it. Hastily stepping to the side, she rested softly on a boulder, busying herself with taking stock of her supplies.

"I have to remember to stop for more Apple Gels," she murmured aloud, taking mental note as well. A rustle to her left caught her attention, and her head whirled around to face it, the hand clutching her staff gripping it tighter. It was just a squirrel, an innocent little squirrel, which, at her movement, hurried off into the brush. _Jittery much?_ She laughed dryly to herself. Her gaze drifted up to the tops of the trees, above which gleamed the forsaken shell of the Human Ranch. It was long since abandoned, and had adopted a peaceful state, but the fortress-like structure still sent a shiver of unease down her spine.

"_Genis, get away from there!" Raine cried in alarm, spotting her brother clumsily climbing the treacherous cliffs that guarded three of the walls of the Human Ranch. She'd heard rumors of the atrocities those called Desians had committed, and she'd seen the patrols of them march in unnerving unison through her pleasant hometown. So when the guard had pointed her in the direction of the woods in her frantic search for Genis, she'd all but fainted in panic. _

_Branches tore at her hair, clothes, and face as she raced through the trees toward his small, innocent form, the winding path forsaken for a quicker route. A glint caught her attention. Atop the wall stood a figure clad in guard's armor, gesturing down toward the climbing child. After a moment, he lazily lifted his bow, aiming down her beloved brother with a relaxed, uncaring regard. _

"_**Genis!**" She shrieked, terror widening her eyes, and the boy turned his head in curiosity. The man only steadied his aim. Pushing her legs ever-faster, she bolted through the last bit of woods between them, stumbling up the hill with breakneck speed._

_The man drew back his readied arrow, lining it up with his eye. He let out a nonchalant laugh, likely to a comment from a comrade. _

"_**NO!**" Raine cried, throwing herself over the small form of her brother, and drawing him close with one arm. She crouched over him, looking up at the man._

"_Harlot, who are you to trespass?!" The Desian demanded, lowering his bow slightly._

"_Please," she pleaded desperately, tears of fear in her eyes, "Please, don't kill my brother! He's young, he doesn't know any better! Please, let us leave, we won't trouble you again!"_

"_I should shoot you both; him for being stupid enough to break the treaty and come unsummoned, and you for trespassing to follow him!" He threatened, drawing his bow up to his eye as if to shoot. Raine drew over her brother, protectively, turning her head and bracing herself against death by a Desian arrow. _

"_I love you, Genis," Raine murmured thickly into her brother's silver hair. He whimpered slightly, fearfully. Suddenly, a gasp broke the silence. She chanced a glance upward at the archer, and he had lowered his bow slightly, his eyes in shock. _

"_You are one of us," he murmured in wonder, eyes wide slightly. The woman's own eyes widened in shock, and her hand flew to her ear, finding it bare. Her hair had fallen forward when she braced herself, revealing her semi-pointed ear. Semi-pointed. _

'_No...' She stood up, drawing Genis up with her, and stumbled blindly backwards. She wanted nothing more than to run, run away from this man and his horrific accusation, the accusation she'd fled from for so long, the accusation that had caused friends to turn enemy, welcoming smiles to turn to drawn weapons. _

"_You are a half-"_

"_**NO!**" She cut him off, shaking her head violently, staggering backward. She couldn't take it anymore. Turning, Raine raced off down the hill. And, though he had his bow and arrow drawn, the Desian did not raise them to still her._

The flurry of trees and motion abruptly shifted to dead silence and stillness. Professor Sage was keenly aware of her position on a boulder, as she had been for the last quarter of an hour, but her breathing was fast and labored, almost as if she had been racing as fiercely as her past self had.

"That _was_ a _memory_, wasn't it?" She mused in horror between gasping breaths. She felt a fine mist of sweat on her forehead as well. It had all felt so _real_... "No, Raine, breathe. Don't be an imbecile. Of _course_ it was just a memory."

Though this didn't reassure her as much as she hoped it would. Her gaze drifting to the Human Ranch once more, she flinched violently away, gaze ripping from the metal structure in pain. Flustered beyond what she let herself admit, she rose decidedly to her feet, setting off toward Iselia. Her gaze was fixed on the gatepost, and she focused solely on that gatepost and how quickly she could reach it. The memory was fresh on her mind, and threatening to overwhelm her thoughts if she didn't constantly fight it. So fight she did.

It was almost a physical relief when she entered Iselia's gate. She turned to offer a small greeting smile to the guard on duty... Until she caught the suspicious look on his face. His unfamiliar face. Averting her gaze, she continued into town, heading straight for the General Store for those Apple Gels. Yet the streets were busy, far far busier than she recalled. And Professor Raine Sage didn't recognize a single person.

She felt their gazes upon her, this stranger with the confidant walk and the battle staff, with the silver hair and the scholar's coat. And she felt cold, as if each touch was an icicle to her skin. Unconsciously, her hand drifted up to her right ear, the one that faced the majority of the people, checking to make sure it was covered. It was, but she drew a little more hair that way, just to be sure.

These streets used to be _home_, she used to have every cobblestone and every crack programmed into her brain, with help from her semi-photographic and highly porous memorization skills. But the cracked cobbles had been replaced, as had been the friendly faces she knew, replaced or just swallowed up in the crowd.

'_Of course Iselia is crowded now,_' she chided herself. '_Who _wouldn't _want to live in the hometown of the Eternal Swordsman and the Chosen of Martel? Free publicity, I believe that's the term Zelos used in a conversation on the topic.'_

Still, she felt violated and exposed, to be appraised as a foreigner in her own home.

Iselia wasn't home anymore.

She came to the steps of the General Goods store, but she hesitated, her hand shaking slightly with her fingers barely brushing the door. Would Morgan still be there? Raine remembered her clearly, behind the counter, her fingers deftly handling the many sorts of goods she sold and bought. She was about Raine's age, though she was already skilled in her trade when the young half-elf had arrived at a mere nine years old, and she was the shopkeeper until Raine left at age twenty-three. The Professor couldn't imagine the cozy little shop without Morgan.

Suddenly aware of the prejudiced scrutiny of those around her, she shook her head slightly and pushed open the door, without time for further inhibitions. With slow steps she entered the little shop, blinking repeatedly until her eyes grew accustomed to the dim. Things had changed, drastically so, since she had last been there. What used to be dusty shelves stocked with a random assortment of helpful items was now spotless shelves stocked in carefully organized piles and rows. What used to be the corner of barrels where the shipments sat before they were unpacked was now a small table, with two chairs to allow seating and relaxation.

Her gaze immediately shifted to the counter, behind which Morgan usually sat in wait. But nobody was there. She froze. After all the changes she'd seen since she had entered her former home... Raine wasn't sure she could take it, if even _Morgan_ had been replaced. She knew it was irrational, but at the same time, she couldn't help it.

"I think I should go..." She murmured to herself, stepping backward a step. But all of a sudden, a large crashing sound broke the silence, as well as an unsteady thumping. The half-elf tensed slightly, uncertain.

"Is someone out there?" Called a strained yet friendly voice from what seemed like nowhere. A moment later, an attractive woman with deep blue hair and slightly angular features stepped through a curtain that Raine hadn't even noticed was there, smoothing down her slightly ruffled hair. _Morgan._ "I'm sorry, I didn't hear the door, and-"

Then their eyes met, and the shopkeeper's words stopped short. Her crystal blue eyes widened slightly, and she took a step toward the half-elf.

"_Raine_?" She questioned in wonder, and the Professor in question nodded slightly in confirmation. With a slight squeal of surprise and joy, Morgan hopped the counter behind which she served, and threw her arms around her old friend. Raine tensed in surprise at the warmth of her welcome, but eventually indulged in a smile and wrapped her arms gently around the slightly shorter woman in return. After a moment, the two separated, and Morgan smoothed out her ruffled apron and ran her hand once more through her hair.

"Raine, it's so good to see you again! How have you been?" She conversed excitedly, stepping back around to stand behind her counter and sitting on a sturdy stool. Raine remained standing, running a hand over her own hair to hide her slightly flustered state.

"I've..." She paused, unsure of how much to tell her old ally. It seemed like forever ago that they had been close, though it was only six years, and she suddenly felt strangely detached from her old life. She had always been slightly more mature than Morgan, but... After seeing death, war, hatred, and racism, she suddenly felt ancient compared to her former equal. While she was out fighting monsters, saving lives, and healing fatal wounds, Morgan had remained in Iselia, faithfully selling her wares... and Raine guessed that's what made all the difference. She couldn't help but feel a sense of loss... Even though they never had been truly best friends. Professor Sage had always been just that, even as a child, and had never been able to get close to anyone, honestly close.

Then she realized she'd trailed off, and Morgan was staring at her in concerned puzzlement. Offering a smile, Raine finished with, "I've been good, very much so. I've spent the last few years living on the outskirts of Sybak—that's an academy town by the Bridge—and I've compiled my studies into a few journals."

The shopkeeper took a moment to ponder this, nodding. "So what brings you back to Iselia? Though it _has_ been a bit livelier since the worlds were united, it can't be nearly as interesting as your Sybak..."

Raine paused, again wondering how much to reveal, before shrugging slightly awkwardly. "I'm between homes at the moment. It turns out, Sybak wasn't all that interesting." Her face let on nothing of her twisting of ideas. She didn't lie, after all. _Sybak_ wasn't that interesting, it was the _academy_ that perked her interest. Morgan nodded sympathetically.

"So you decided to drop in and see me?" She grinned, and Raine shuffled a moment, hesitating.

"Well, actually, I came for some Apple Gels," she admitted, and thankfully, Morgan didn't look all that hurt.

"Either way, I'm glad you did. It's been kind of lonely, without you around. The new schoolteacher isn't nearly as fun, and her knowledge isn't even a _fraction _of yours." Raine froze. _New schoolteacher? Since when? _But, when she thought about it, she knew that it wasn't irrational. After all, Professor Sage left with the Chosen. They had to find _someone_ to teach the young ones. Still, the thought of being replaced stung ever-so-slightly.

"I should hope not. After all, what kind of Professor would I be, if any old bat could outteach me?" She shot with a joking tone, though it wasn't entirely untrue.

"Well, I'm not sure she's 'any old bat', but I agree," Morgan grinned in reply.

"Indeed." Raine commented noncommittally, glancing up at the wall clock. Two 'o' clock. "Well, I should probably be on my way," she added, only slightly disappointed to end this conversation so soon.

"Oh, that's a shame. I was hoping we could talk longer. I'll go get your Apple Gels now, so I don't hold you up much longer." Morgan smiled once more, though the disappointment was clear in her eyes. It was obvious that she still thought of Raine as her best friend, as she always had, this the Professor realized as the shopkeeper hurried off behind the counter. The half-elf felt a slight pang of guilt at this realization, and the lack of similar feelings in return, but it couldn't be helped.

It wasn't long before the navy-haired human turned to face her once more, a small stack of containers on the counter with the tell-tale red hue of Apple Gel inside.

"Thank you, Morgan. It was good to see you again." Raine picked up the Gels, putting them inside her bag.

"It was good to see you too..." Morgan replied, and the Professor turned to the door. "Raine?" She froze, her hand against the grainy wood of the door. Turning back to her former ally, she came face to face with a look of hurt realization that had been absent moments before. "Raine... Have things truly changed that much?" Her voice was soft and sorrowful.

The Professor slowly nodded, and Morgan sighed in defeat.

"Then... I suppose you won't come back again?"

"It's for the best," Raine sighed, stepping back toward the counter. "It's not just here, it's... Everything about Iselia, it's changed. It's not my home anymore."

"I understand." Morgan slowly nodded. "I should have known things couldn't return to how they were before. I can see it in your eyes, your clothes, your worn staff, the entire way you move... You've changed too, Raine. But even so, I'd hoped we could still be friends."

"Goodbye, Morgan." The half-elf merely bid her old friend farewell.

"Goodbye, Raine," Morgan replied in acceptance, her eyes on her hands.

And Professor Sage stepped out into the streets of Iselia. She knew that would be the last time she stopped into that little store... It had only been in a slight hope that life could return to the normal simplicity of before, or that she could at least have a few moments' relief from reality, that she had gone to Morgan to begin with. But that was impossible.

She stepped down the steps, turning to face the gate that would lead her back to Lloyd and Colette's cozy home. She would be welcome there, she knew. Part of her wanted to go back, to run back so as to reach there all the sooner.

No. She was _Professor Raine Sage_, for Martel's sake. Of all the possible choices, the last thing she wanted to do was to turn tail and flee the moment things got uncomfortable.

With her shoulders rolled back and her head held high, she turned and strolled as confidently as she could manage down the side road to the right, where Colette's father and grandmother lived. Frank and Phaidra... After the mayor, they were the most influential people in town. Raine supposed it came from having a Chosen for a daughter. They had always been kind to Raine, taking her in when she first arrived in Iselia with her newborn brother in tow, and sheltering her for a few years until Colette was born. With this new mouth to feed, Raine had volunteered to take the burden of herself and her brother from their backs, and moved into a small leaky house across town. She was fifteen, and her brother was five, when they moved into their new home. It was then, in her need for money to support the two, that she took up teaching. Even at fifteen, she absorbed knowledge like a sponge absorbs water, and relayed it just as effectively. Her memory was astounding, and her ability to apply those memorized texts to teaching and such was just as much so.

It was then that her foot caught on a stone, and she shook herself from her recollections. The house of Frank and Phaidra loomed before her. It was the first step she'd stumbled on, she realized. Shaking her head once more to ensure that her thoughts were clear, she stepped up the steps and knocked on the door. A soft, inquisitive voice sounded from inside, though the door muffled the exact words spoken, and the scholar heard footsteps approaching.

It was Frank who opened the door. It truly showed what Iselia had become, when he only opened it wide enough to peer warily outside. Upon seeing Raine, however, he smiled warmly and threw open the door.

As Raine stepped inside, a wave of relief washed over her. The house had changed little if at all, and Phaidra sat in a rocking chair by the fire, just as she always had. Though it had been years since Raine had last seen her, and Colette's grandmother was slowly climbing in age, the woman still held her poise and grace.

"Raine," Phaidra smiled a motherly smile. That was one thing she'd missed about the elder woman, how, no matter how mature and dignified Raine insisted she was, no matter how Professor-like she acted, Phaidra still regarded her as she had when Raine had arrived at age nine, for the most part. Sure, she respected Raine's opinion far more now, but she still acted like a mother. The half-elf couldn't help but offer a genuine smile in return, stepping over to stand beside her foster-mother of sorts.

"It's nice to see you, Phaidra. You're still as elegant as you've always been."

"Oh, hush, Raine, you know I'm nothing of the sort," the woman shot back, but her eyes were alight with pleasure at the compliment. The Professor smiled knowingly; this was an old argument between them, ever since Raine could recall.

"Mother, be nice to our guest. You don't want to scare her off," Frank put in teasingly.

The scholar smiled in dry humor. "It takes a lot more than _that_ to scare me off."

"Ah yes, I'd forgotten. You're the big Aselian hero, aren't you?"

"I recall when she was only waist-high, when she first showed up on our doorstep half-drowned in the rain. It seems like only yesterday, doesn't it, Frank dear?"

Though the Professor wasn't too fond of reminiscing her younger days, she humored the woman. "You've just been asleep since then, that's all."

The trio let out various amounts of laughter, and Phaidra waved Raine off good-naturedly. "It's been nice around here, without your constant supply of sarcastic remarks."

"Hush, Mother, you know you missed her," Frank put in, and they laughed once more. "So what brings you to Iselia?" He prompted when they'd finished. "Intend to stay a while?"

"Actually, I'm just passing through," admitted Raine, half wishing she could tell them she'd stay. "I'm staying with Lloyd and Colette for the next couple of days."

"Oh, that's a shame. It'd be nice to have a familiar face around, if only for a little while..." The elder woman lamented, and Frank nodded slightly in agreement.

"Yeah, Iselia's..."

"Changed," finished Raine, and the two residents nodded in agreement. "I was somewhat hesitant to visit, to be honest. No no, it's nothing you did," she added, at their slightly confused looks, "but... I just dropped in to see Morgan..."

Frank and Phaidra nodded in unspoken understanding.

"It's hard, growing apart." Phaidra placed a comforting hand on Raine's shoulder. "But... Can you honestly say you were surprised? The journey changed you as much as it changed Iselia, hard as it is to see. You are wise, Raine, far beyond your years, far beyond _my_ years even, and it was your quest that made it so."

"I suppose you're right," she softly admitted, though the realization wasn't as painful as it seemed it should be. Perhaps it was the warmth and comforting aroma of the house where she grew up. Yes, that had to be it. Still, she was glad for the emotional reprieve.

"Raine? If you wouldn't mind staying a little longer, we've got stew on the stove." Frank's voice drifted in from the kitchen, where he apparently had drifted during the past few minutes of conversation. The half-elf's stomach rumbled in response, and she smiled slightly. Her stomach's demands, combined with the alluring scent of homemade stew, made up her mind for her, and she drifted into the kitchen, Phaidra close behind her.

Lunch was fairly uneventful. The stew was the best food she'd had in a very long while, her taste buds in ecstasy at the wide range of flavors they were presented with, but she forced herself to eat slowly and chew her food thoroughly. There were a few scattered bits of conversation, but nothing of much importance. By the end of the meal, however, Raine was at war with herself over whether or not to stay after all. Eventually, however, her logical side won the skirmish, and she rose from the table decidedly.

"I'm sorry, but I must be off. I have a few more stops to make before I head back, and I don't want to be caught out in the dark."

Frank nodded, and Phaidra held out an arm in invitation. Obliging the older woman, Raine moved to her side, and was enfolded in a warm, one-armed hug.

"Am I right to assume that you won't be returning?"

Raine's gaze dropped to her feet, regretting her earlier decision. "Indeed. It just..."

"It doesn't feel right. We understand." Frank offered.

"Thank you for coming, Raine. It means a lot to me." Phaidra softly put in, followed by an affirmative nod from her son. "Be safe, Raine."

"With the state of Iselia, I'm forced to return the sentiments," Raine commented dryly, and Phaidra nodded regretfully, obviously missing the days before the Journey of Regeneration, when Iselia was still a small off-road village and the largest attraction was Dirk's craftsmanship.

"Yes, and quite a shame that is... If you ever find yourself with nowhere to go, our door's always open."

"Not literally, of course. These days, we'd fear for getting robbed, if our door were always open." Frank joked lightly, hoping to brighten the mood. Raine obliged him, smiling. She stepped toward the door, grabbing her staff from where it rested against the wall nearby.

"May your travels lead you to happiness," Phaidra bid farewell, and Raine nodded in gratitude.

"And may you always make heavenly stew," she responded lightly, gazing at them a moment more before stepping outside. She knew it wasn't a fitting goodbye for her foster parents of sorts, but she wanted to end the meeting in high spirits. If she'd left sadly, they would pity her, and worry about her. The last thing she wanted was pity, and the Professor surely didn't want to trouble their minds either.

She refused to let her regretful departure affect her confidant façade, holding her head high even still. After all, there was nothing she could do about it. She did what she had to. _At least they're alive and well_, she mused to herself. This thought kept her spirits from plummeting as she made her way across town.

Raine pointedly avoided the old schoolhouse, taking a southern path. She didn't want to see it, see the children inside, happy as they'd been before she left, see the new teacher, teaching as if she deserved to be there.

_Nonsense. There's no reason she _doesn't _deserve to be there. I left, after all. I chose a higher duty. No place for regrets now._

Still, she didn't even look that way as she approached the ruins of her old house. She wasn't sure which she would have preferred, if the ruins had been cleared away to allow for another house, or if they remained untouched, a painful reminder that she no longer belonged. But the charred remains still sat, unchanged by time nor mortal hands. Slowly, she stepped toward it. Moss was already growing on some of the timbers, and the grass had overgrown the garden she'd carefully kept. Her gaze glanced back to the road; a few pairs of eyes watched her, as if wondering what gave her a right to approach the ruins that everyone else avoided so fervently. She gazed back at them, defiantly, until they turned and walked away.

Stepping across the threshold, the staff-wielder took a look around her. It seemed far smaller than it had in her youth, though that could probably be attributed to the imploded ceiling on the eastern side, the kitchen area. It would likely have been more painful, she observed, if this were more recognizable as her home. But it was more like the ruins she so adored than her childhood abode, so it was curiosity rather than pain that drove her onward.

The bookshelf lay collapsed on the floor to her left, and the books were scattered about. She stepped over some wreckage to crouch by the pile, picking up a thick leather-bound volume. _Mithos The Hero_, it was entitled.

_Of all the names that are remembered with reverence, it will always be Mithos who will be held above them all. His accomplishments-_

She didn't even need to open it to have it's first page playing through her head. She cut off the recollection, however. The knowledge was useless to her, now that she knew the truth. It was somewhat of a shame, the Professor noted with slight sorrow, that she'd read the pages enough to recite it by memory, and that the entire volume turned out to be a falsification. Casting it aside, she lifted another book. _The World Regeneration Legend_.

_Once upon a time, there existed a giant tree that was the source of Mana. A war, however, caused this tree to wither away, and a hero's life was sacrificed-_

She shook her head, ceasing the wordflow once more. _A hero's life was sacrificed. Ha. Complete and utter bullshit._ She snorted in distaste, casting this book aside as well and rising to her feet. Stepping over the ruins of her table, she came to her small refrigerator, it's iron surface having withstood the fire. A vile reek escaped the sealed edges, telling of long-rotting food. She fought down her gag reflex, stepping closer.

Hanging haphazardly on the front, one corner taped to the metal and the edges charred, she found a picture. Genis had drawn it for her when she'd first moved into the house, and she'd hung it there, where it had remained for years. Raine felt a small surge of joy that it had escaped the destruction of the Desians' fire, and she plucked it from it's resting spot, folding it carefully and tucking it away in a pocket.

With a final glance around her, she stepped from the ruined one-room house, relieved to be out in the fresh air once more. Glancing toward the distant log-built schoolhouse, the corner of which peeked around the bend in the road, she shook her head. She was fine, having explored her former home with a minimal amount of sadness, and she wanted to keep it that way. _Besides,_ she realized, glancing at the sun, _class will be in session for another half-hour, and I don't think my regards to the new teacher would be entirely school-appropriate._

Decided, she turned back toward the southern gate. Her pace was a little faster than previously, due to the fact that she was nearly free of the scrutiny and unwelcoming stares, and it seemed like no time at all that she was out in the woods once more. Reaching the fork in the road, she glanced down the lesser worn path to Lloyd and Colette's house. She could return, as she'd earlier considered. Yet the day was still young, and she didn't want to just sit around, especially since her presence would likely inconvenience the two residents.

Taking up her swift walk, she headed off down the path to Dirk's place. It had been a while since she'd talked with the dwarf, and the metal bladed end of her staff was looking a bit dull anyways.

The Professor passed the Human Ranch without a single glance it's way, however hard it was to avoid gazing at the foreboding structure. She didn't want another memory to resurface, not after how she'd ended up after the last one.

Raine used the trek to the woodland cottage to take stock of her surroundings, and to identify the flora and fauna. She found that she was a bit rusty at her identification, which drove her to take a slightly longer route to give her more time to practice. By the time the half-elf reached the bridge to the Irving home, she was once more confident with her classification skills.

Raising her hand, she made a fist to knock on the door.

"Come on in, it's open," called a gruff, throaty voice from inside. She smiled slightly at her own forgetfulness. Of _course_ he'd known she was there. Meant for living underground where sounds were muffled and lighting was dim if it existed at all, dwarves were born with heightened senses. Some said it was their heightened sense of touch that made them such great craftsmen... Dwarven senses had always fascinated Raine, but she'd bridled her researcher nature enough so as not to force the two dwarves she knew into letting her experiment on them.

Pushing open the door, she stepped into the refreshingly cool downstairs of the wooden dwarfcraft home. Immediately, she was aware of an assortment of pleasant smells, from the familiar wooden scent of the fire to the general earthy scent of the home in general. The Professor inhaled deeply, smiling slightly, before turning to the dwarf who had invited her in.

"I apologize for coming unexpectedly, but I felt it would be nice to step in for a few minutes, seeing as it's been quite a while since we've last visited."

"Don't worry yourself about it, Profess'r, I was expectin' you anyhow," he kindly shrugged off her apology in his heavily accented tone. Raine cocked her head slightly in curiosity.

"Oh?" She prompted, and he nodded.

"Aye, ever since Kratos got here earlier. He told me the two of ye are here for a bit, and I know it'd be a matter uh'time before you turned up too." The dwarf replied, taking a seat at the table and sliding one out with his foot for Raine to sit as well. She shook her head, declining his request.

"Is... Is Kratos still here?" She pried, trying not to seem overly curious. Dirk glanced out the window, then shrugged slightly.

"I'd think so. If he is, ye'd find 'im out back. I'd not be disturbin' 'im though... He looked pretty out'a-sorts when he headed out there. Though I dun' blame him, what with it bein' his wife who went..." Dirk trailed off, but his point was made. Raine's chest felt tight, very much so, and she didn't quite understand why. This had never happened before, and she couldn't explain it. The closest she could think of was hurt and sadness... Sadness that Lloyd had to grow up without a mother, that had to be it. But what was the hurt for? As hard as she tried, and as much as it frustrated her, she couldn't figure out what the hurt was for.

Professor Sage was suddenly aware of being watched. She glanced up, to see Dirk gazing at her curiously. After a moment, his eyes lit with understanding.

"On 'nother thought, maybe ye should go talk t'him," he said slowly. "It'd prob'ly do him good."

Raine narrowed her eyes slightly at the dwarf, unsure of what was on his mind, and even less sure that she'd approve of whatever he was trying to do. Still, she knew the dwarf meant well, so she nodded.

"Alright, I might just do that. It was nice to see you again, even if it was for so short a while."

Dirk nodded. "Likewise to ye... And Profess'r?" He added when she was stepping toward the door. She paused, turning to look at him over her shoulder. "Try'n understand how he hurts."

Unsure of how to respond, she turned back to the door, stepping outside into the sunlight once more. What had he meant by that? What had changed his mind to begin with? Raine sighed harshly in frustration. _Dwarves may have keener senses, but they're aggravatingly cryptic at times._

With silent steps, she paced around the border of the house, until she came up behind Kratos. He was on his knees at the foot of Lloyd's mother's grave. Anna, Raine recalled the name. He was softly speaking, though Raine knew it wasn't to her. He didn't seem to notice her, and she doubted he would let her be there if he did. She opened her mouth to make her presence known... But then, she could've sworn she heard her name. Straining her ears, she could make out what he was saying.

"-forgive me. Words cannot describe the pain I feel without you, Anna. Lloyd... Lloyd is well. He would have loved you, Anna, as much as you loved him..." He trailed off, his head bowed in pain. Raine felt a pang of sympathy, and a sudden urge to comfort the hurting seraph, and this drew her a step toward him.

Two hazel eyes snapped open, and he leapt up, whirling to face the intruder with his hand on his sword. He seemed torn between enraged and hurt. Hazel met icy blue, and Raine took another step forward.

"You're not alone, Kratos." Her voice was soft, caring almost, moreso than she had ever offered him, and her eyes were pleading with him, though for what she didn't quite know. An indescribable pain swept over his eyes as she made her offer for comfort, and their gazes were locked a moment longer. Then he jerked his head away, troubled eyes covered by his auburn bangs, and stormed off past her. Raine stood rooted to her spot. Of all that she had anticipated, anger at her intrusion being the most logical, she hadn't expected this. This _pain_ that had been so obvious in his gaze. For so long she stood there, unable to move. Then, slowly, she stepped toward the grave, lowering herself to her knees as he had been.

"Anna... I know we never met while you were alive, but I harbor a small hope that you can hear me regardless. I... I know as well that I have no right to speak to you. But... I have a favor to ask. If you can, if it's at all within your power... Could you help him trust me? I only wish to help him..." She softly requested, somewhat surprised that she didn't feel stupid for talking to a gravestone. Perhaps it was that he had spoken to it as well without finding it illogical. Either way, it didn't matter. Her request was made.

She rose to her feet, stepping back away from the grave and brushing the dirt from the knee-height section of her overcoat.

Raine barely noticed her trek back through the woods. Her mind was in turmoil and confusion, an event rarely occurring in a mind so meticulously organized as the Professor's. One thought rose above all: _Please, Anna, let me help him..._

_-----_

The one thing that was certain that night was silence. Raine spent the evening in the corner, curled up in a chair with a large technical-looking book, though she didn't seem to turn the page even once, and Kratos spent his in the opposite one, just as occupied with his own thoughts. Lloyd and Colette sat on the couch between them, watching the silent duo. However reserved the pair usually were, Kratos especially so, the silence that had enveloped the room was tense and unnatural. Neither the swordsman nor the Chosen made any attempt at conversation; they both seemed to know how fruitless it would end.

Colette eventually turned to Lloyd, who met her gaze a moment later. 'Should we try and help them?', she mouthed, but Lloyd looked them each over once before he shook his head.

'Leave them be,' he mouthed in return, and at her look of discontent, he added, 'they'll probably just go somewhere else if we bug them about it. Hopefully they'll get over it soon, whatever it is.' Colette nodded.

'Yes, hopefully.'

-----

It was the dead of the night, and each and every one of the house's inhabitants were asleep. Except for one. Slowly, Raine's icy blue eyes slid open. She sat upright, stretching and blinking away the sleep. A glance out her window told her it was still nighttime, but it was too dark to read the clock to tell exactly what time.

"That's odd," she murmured sleepily, scooting down so as to lay back down. But before she could get even halfway back to her mattress, she stopped. Something felt wrong. Like she wasn't _supposed_ to sleep. Sitting up once more and crossing her legs comfortably, she looked about her. Her gaze drifted to the window.

_The woods sure are beautiful in the moonlight_. These words drifted through her head, though more as if someone had spoken them than as if she had thought them herself. However it felt, though, it was true. The land was bathed in the silver glow of the full moon, and it seemed almost magical. She suddenly felt the urge to go outside.

"Nonsense," she mumbled to herself. "It's the middle of the night, and I need to sleep."

But at the same time, Raine felt herself rising to her feet, only half of her own accord. She stepped over to the window, and, after a moment's hesitation, slid over the windowsill to land outside, clad in only a plain white sleeping tank top and her Maiden pants, which she'd taken to wearing to bed now that she had no other use for them.

Logic told her to return to her room, to sleep like she knew she needed, but for once, there was something stronger than logic, an impulsiveness she could barely call her own, telling her to stay, to step lightly across the grassy clearing and into the beautiful silver woods.

Almost as if in a trance, she did just that, silently making her way across to stand among the trees. Logic once more demanded her return to her soft, comfy bed, but... Something was calling. Calling _her. _So she continued on, farther and farther into the woods, until she could no longer see the house behind her. She was completely and utterly lost, yet at the same time, she knew where to go, as if she were following an invisible path.

And then she saw him.

He was the embodiment of perfection in every way. His hair was the perfect shade of blonde to glow radiantly in the moonlight, and his face was flawless. His eyes were closed, but she somehow knew they'd be a brilliant blue in a shade just darker than hers. He was sitting cross-legged on a rock smooth enough to rival those professionally crafted, his body a picture of inhuman poise and grace. She stepped closer, her eyes wide in awe.

Then his eyes opened, immediately focused on her own. She knew instantly that it had been he who had called her there, though she didn't quite know how. And as his eyes opened, a pair of wings, flesh and feather wings, slowly appeared on his back. Her eyes widened.

This was Jeremiel.

This was the man who was so desperately hunting down Kratos.

Yet at the same time, she couldn't help but doubt. Why would one so perfect wish to harm or even disservice another?

All of a sudden, logic made another forceful appearance, and she shook her head violently to clear it. That's what he _wanted_ her to think. That trancelike fog that had drawn her to him, that had been him, his voice in her mind. With widened eyes, she realized what power he must have, to affect another's thoughts so drastically. She took a step back, ready to flee, to escape his draw. Yet at the same time, she felt her defiance slipping away, replaced by a soft, foggy contentment.

"Come," he softly called, his voice warm and inviting and _pure_. She found herself once more stepping toward him, uncertain of if it was of her own accord. The half-elf closed the distance between them, softly seating herself in the Raine-sized portion of the rock that he had left vacant. "I have been waiting to meet you for quite a while, Raine." His voice was sweet, melodic, irresistible. She nodded, unable to recall how to speak. "You fascinate me, Raine, and I cannot fathom why..." Her heart seemed to beat in time with his voice, or at least at that tempo. She felt a surge of pleasure at his words, that one so humble as she could even slightly interest one so perfect as this. "Your beauty captivates me," he continued his musing, slowly extending a hand to touch her cheek. A shiver ran down her spine at his touch. "And your intelligence astonishes even me..." The seraph of perfection paused once more, and a look of slight puzzlement came over his features. "Why am I drawn to you, Raine?"

His eyes searched hers, and she wished she could answer his question, if only to see him content. After a moment, he sighed half-heartedly. "I find you far more intriguing when you're thoughts are your own, you know, but... I fear you will flee me if I allow you your senses..." Raine managed to shake her head slightly, wanting nothing more than to see the sorrow erased from his perfect features. She didn't understand what he was saying, just that he thought she would leave him. She couldn't even begin to fathom why she would leave him. He was breathtaking, and her life would be pale and lifeless without him. "Of course you shake your head now," he laughs humorlessly. "You are as captivated by me as I am by you. Here, give me your hands." Instantly, the half-elf held out her hands to him, and he wrapped his own around her wrists. "Now you _can't_ run away."

The foggy trancelike rapture faltered, and logic burst in through the weakness. This was Jeremiel! He was the one who wounded Kratos so badly, who enslaved all of Derris-Kharlan, who _killed Martel_! And suddenly, the perfection that was before her didn't seem as much so. She could see through the purity in his eyes, that hard glint of malice shining through. Yet at the same time, his gaze was nearly overwhelmed by the same fascination that she had felt moments before. She made to scoot away, but his hands were locked around her wrists, holding her in place.

"Let me go," she demanded, her voice slightly shaky. He shook his head sorrowfully.

"I'm sorry, Raine, but I can't do that. If I do, you will run. You will tell Kratos of this, and he will find me." A glint of fear sparked in his eyes at mention of the other seraph's name, but it was gone before she could even be sure she saw it.

"What are you talking about?" Raine demanded, pulling slightly at her wrists, yet his grip didn't yield. "It's _you_ who's after _him_! You tried to _kill_ him! _You killed Martel!_ Now let me go, you bastard, or I-, I'll kill you!" She protested, pulling all the harder. Hurt flashed across his gaze, genuine hurt.

"Raine, please. He's filled your mind with lies, turned you against me. I swear, no truth lies in his words." He softly replied, and she paused in her struggling.

"No! He wouldn't lie to me." _Would he?_ "Why would he want to turn me against you?" She demanded, and his eyes met hers once more, burning with a passion that unnerved her.

"Raine, I wasn't lying earlier. You fascinate me, and I'm not quite sure why. I've watched you, Raine, for longer than you can clearly recall. I'm drawn to you, your beauty and intelligence, your strength and your determination. You occupy my every thought, Raine. I'd say I love you, but I'm not sure that can describe the utter captivation I feel." His voice was thick with emotion, and Raine froze, eyes wide. She shook her head, refusing to believe that his words were more than just lies to get to her. Yet his words had sounded so sincere, and his eyes... She hadn't forgotten the rapture his eyes had held as they'd gazed upon her.

"Answer my question," she demanded, though her voice was soft.

"He would turn you against me because he knew it would hurt me in the worst way possible. I came here to find you, Raine, but he followed me here. I fled to these forests. When he didn't find me here, I sent one of the lesser angels that dared to follow me against Kratos's will to your house, to see if he was waiting for me there, waiting to ambush me."

That was it. Raine was completely and utterly confused. Kratos had seemed so honest, so sincere... Yet here was Jeremiel, so obviously infatuated, whose words made perfect sense as well. And... This seraph, he didn't _seem_ like a tyrant. He seemed powerful despite his innocent appearance, sure, but he didn't seem like the cruel ruler that Kratos had painted in her mind.

And Kratos had betrayed them once before, hadn't he?

She slowly drew her hands back, and he let her wrists go, knowing as well as she did that she wouldn't run.

"Raine, come away with me. I can't stand living in fear that he will hurt you. He'll hurt you eventually, if he doesn't find me. He'll hurt you, knowing it pains me equally, knowing it will draw me to your aid. Let us escape him."

Raine slid off the rock, stepping backward, away.

"Jeremiel..." She spoke his name for the first time, and realized with a pang of fear that her voice held an unprecedented tenderness. He noticed it as well, and grinned in triumph. She shook her head violently, pushing away the turmoil.

"Raine... You don't know how much sorrow it brings me to see you conflicted like this. But I will not force you to come with me, if such is not your will," he softly offered, his voice thick with regret. She wanted to comfort him, yet at the same time, she couldn't help but fear him for what he was.

"I don't know," she slowly replied, her palm on her temple and her fingers in her hair in frustration at her indecision. "I'm sorry. I-... I don't know what to think, what to _feel_."

Jeremiel nodded knowingly, though his gaze was still pained. "Return to your bed. Sleep. Even if you choose not to believe me, I will always be there, watching you. And when he hurts you, I will be there as well, giving him myself to keep him from inflicting any more pain upon you. If you need me, just call my name with your thoughts. I will protect you."

And then he was gone. If not for his face flashing through her mind, his voice clear in her memory, she would doubt it had even occurred. But at the same time, she wished with all her might that it hadn't. Could it be true? That Kratos was to betray her once again? This thought sent a pang of pain through her chest, but she didn't quite know why. But what if Jeremiel was lying? What if it was he, trying to get to Kratos?

But... she remembered his words so clearly. He said he loved her. No, beyond that. He said love couldn't begin to describe how he felt. He had called her beautiful, she recalled, and intelligent... She found that she couldn't mistrust Jeremiel, despite all that Kratos had said, and she hated herself for such weakness.

_Nobody has ever said they loved me before..._

Shaking her head violently, she cried out in frustration, though not loud enough to echo through the trees. This clearing, it was still affecting her thoughts. As long as she was here, she could clearly recall the rapture she'd felt while under his control, and as long as she could recall that, she knew she wouldn't be able to think clearly. Refusing her urge to take one last look, Raine whirled around and dashed off through the trees. Her speed was blinding, yet miraculously, she didn't even stumble. Her thoughts were focused on getting back to her room, where reality could set in once more.

_Maybe this was a dream_, she realized. _Maybe I'm still asleep. _Yet it felt so _real_...

In no time, she'd reached her window once more. Silently yet swiftly, she leapt through her window, stepping over to set herself down on her bed. Though she knew she wouldn't sleep, she was exhausted from the night's events, so she slipped under the covers nonetheless. And, miraculously, within seconds, she slept. She could've sworn, in her last seconds of consciousness, that her racing mind was slowed by a familiar, soothing fog.

* * *

**ArissaMay:** There it was. I guess it was a little longer than I expected, though most of it was sheer and utter craptola. And I think the scene with Morgan is not very well written, but that's just me. Sorry if it disappoints you... I just had to write it. TWELVE REVIEWS. I'm still in shock. Still. Tell ya what: If I get ten reviews on this here chapter, I don't care what I'm doing, I'll drop it all and write you chapter seven on the spot. Plus, I'll answer each and every review. :D So if you have any questions, feel free to ask them in your reviews. 


	7. Sois un Ange

**ArissaMay:** Yeah, you guys are so gonna hate me for this chapter. You're gonna kill me, then eat me. But... It's gotta happen. X.x

* * *

Chapter Seven

"_So what's the plan now, boss?"_

"_..."_

"_You do have a plan, right?"_

"_Silence, Sabriel. Bring me the Eternal Swordsman... And I expect him alive."_

"_As you wish, Lord Jeremiel."_

_-----_

"Well, I'm off to Mizuho!" Chirped Colette the following morning. In Raine's opinion, the blonde was entirely too perky for so early in the morning, especially considering she herself had only recently removed herself from the comforts of bed. Though that's not saying much, she supposed, since the half-elf had been out half the night. Or so it felt. Slowly the events of the previous night, or the previous night's dream, or whatever it had been, slowly it came back to her. The uncontrollable urge to venture into the forest, the being that awaited there, the troubling conversation... _It would certainly help if I knew whether or not it actually happened,_ she thought dryly to herself.

Her gaze flickered inconspicuously over to Kratos, who sat in a chair in the corner, apparently immersed in a leather-bound book. The half-elf could tell, however, by the way his eyes never strayed, reading and rereading the same line again and again, that the book and it's contents were the farthest thing from his mind. For a fleeting moment, she considered asking him what was on his mind, but only for a moment. Raine knew that things were tense between them, and she didn't want to push her luck.

Lloyd entered the room just then, a slightly gruesome looking axe resting against his shoulder. He glanced at the blonde a moment, with a small pack in her hand, and disappointment flickered in his eyes. When she turned to face him, however, the swordsman greeted her with a heartwarming grin. She grinned in return, hopping delicately over to his side and pecking him chastely on the cheek.

"Well, seeya!"

And before anyone could respond, she'd bounced out the door. Raine indulged herself in a smile of amusement; ever since Raine could remember, Colette had been bouncing too and fro. It wasn't just an action, it was a way of movement... For the Chosen, at least.

Lloyd, who had been gazing out the window at her retreating form, then turned back to face the duo still remaining in his living room, though facing them both was a difficult task when they were on opposite ends of the room. Still, he managed.

"Um... Sorry to ditch you guys, but... we're running low on firewood, and I was just headed out to chop some." He shifted the axe slightly, apologetically. Raine nodded in understanding, but Kratos remained focused on his book. "Will you guys be alright here by yourselves?"

"I think, Lloyd, that at our ages, we might know what to do with ourselves for a few hours," replied Kratos dryly with a moment's glance up from his hardback. For a moment, the half-elf wondered if he'd give up his façade and put the book aside, but as that moment came to a close, his gaze fell back down to the lines of text once more.

"Alright, well, uh..." Lloyd glanced from Raine to Kratos and back in a slightly awkward fashion. "I'll be off, then. See you guys later!" And he as well was out the door.

The silence was heavy, deafening, and eternal… or so it felt to Raine. In truth, it probably only lasted five or ten minutes. As she'd come to discover, undesirable tasks seem to last far longer than those one enjoys. After the five minute eternity, she sighed softly in defeat.

"Kratos, when do you intend to quit hiding behind that book and talk to me?" Her voice was surprisingly weak, and she adopted a somewhat fiery look in her eyes to make up for it.

Without looking up, he replied flatly, "I have not even the slightest clue what you're talking about."

_The hell you don't-_ "Tell me then, what's your book about?"

"The origins of the Summon Spirits." The seraph didn't skip a beat in his reply, but that didn't faze Raine any.

"Oh? That's an interesting topic to be found in _The Compilation of Iselia's Monsters_, is it not?" She replied, her eyes narrowed. The half-elf knew victory was near, especially as Kratos tensed at her words. After a moment, he too sighed in defeat.

"I don't know..." was his soft response, and she didn't press the topic. Instead, she averted her gaze remorsefully,

"Kratos, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have intruded-"

"You're right. You shouldn't have."

"I said I was sorry... What else do you _want_ from me?" He grew silent once more, and, though she waited quite a while for him to respond, Raine found herself continuing to speak. "Why do you do that?"

"... Do what?"

Her voice was soft. "You never trust anyone, Kratos, you're always acting like everything's fine, or like nobody's good enough to know how you feel. You always push away anyone who tries to help you! But Kratos Aurion, you are going to be the loneliest person on the planet, because after you push someone away again and again, they might just decide to _give you your way_."

Her eyes widened and locked on him in surprise, to find his eyes upon her as well. The mahogany orbs were burning with as much hurt and passion as she'd ever seen them hold... And then, a second later, it was gone, replaced by an eerie coldness.

"I'm going to take a walk," he muttered, rising to his feet and hastily striding toward the doorway. Refusing to let the conversation escape her so easily, Raine leapt to her own feet, rushing to intercept him and planting herself in the doorway, jaw set in determination.

"No, Kratos. You're not. You're going to sit down, and you're going to _talk_ to me."

The mercenary seemed equal parts surprised and expecting, as if he'd half expected her to do this exact thing. Their eyes locked, and the half-elf and seraph were locked in a fierce stare-down... For a minute.

All of a sudden, a commotion erupted from behind her. Raine stumbled forward in alarm, scarcely avoiding a collision with the seraph she was formerly regarding, and whirled to face the hallway. Lloyd was leaning heavily on the door, pale and out of breath.

"_Lloyd_?" She demanded, alarmed.

"Lloyd, what's going on!?" Kratos added, the dispute forgotten.

The twin-swordsman heaved a couple more unsteady breaths before wheezing out, "chased, angels!"

"_Angels_? What about them?!"

Lloyd turned to Raine, breathing heavily for another few moments, before he managed to force out a couple of sentences.

"I... chopping wood in the forest, and... angels came out of nowhere, chased me... I lost them, but they're heading this way!"

"Lloyd, go down into the pantry, get into the darkest, smallest corner possible, and don't make a single sound," Kratos ordered, his voice guardedly even, though Raine could see the hint of panic in his eyes. Eyes wide with bewilderment, Lloyd stumbled into the kitchen, and a moment later, the pantry door snapped shut. Without a second to spare, either. Within the minute, a sharp _crack_ split the air, and the door fell in two from it's hinges. Raine staggered backwards, a hand over her face to protect from the flying splinters from the door. Slowly, she lowered her arm, and the door was no longer. In it's place stood two unnaturally tall and muscular bodies, crimson wings at their backs.

"Well, boys, you've found me," Kratos offered grudgingly, and Raine looked to him in alarm. Surely he didn't intend to get himself caught!? But to her relief, she could see the shimmer of fight in his eyes. Unconsciously, she reached for the staff against the wall just inside the kitchen door.

"Don't flatter yourself, _Kratos_," sneered one of the angels, and the other adopted a similar expression.

"Yeah, we're not after _you_." This was the second angel, his black hair a dark contrast to his redheaded companion. They stepped forward in unnatural unison, toward the pair standing in the hallway.

"We're after the boy," elaborated the redhead. "Tell us where he is, and we won't be forced to hurt you."

"_Break_ you," chimed in the second seraph under his breath, and their smirks grew slightly.

Raine's eyes widened in bewilderment, and she turned to gaze at Kratos. His own gaze was emotionless, and he stared evenly back at the duo before him.

"Over my dead body." And his voice at that moment, that snarling growling death-glare tone, was the most serious and frightening she'd ever heard him use. The scholar found herself cowering backwards slightly out of the way of his wrath, though only subtly.

"That can be arranged," 'offered' the redhead, his hand tightening around the hilt of the sword at his waist. The second angel put a hand on his arm to stop him, however.

"Remember what the boss said," he murmured, and they hovered a moment in indecision. Then the redhead grumbled something incomprehensible but quite obviously mutinous and removed his hand from his sword.

"If you two won't tell is where he is," the black-haired seraph stepped forward, taking control of the conversation, "we'll just have to find him ourselves."

With this, they swept into the kitchen, closely followed by Kratos and Raine, who positioned themselves in the center of the room. The redhead went left, and the other seraph went right, tearing apart the room without a care in their search for the Eternal Swordsman.

"_Aha!_ I found him!" Cried the redhead in triumph. Raine's stomach lurched sickeningly, and her gaze darted from the black-haired seraph to the pantry on the opposing side of the room in horror at Lloyd's imminent confiscation and possibly death. But to her alarm and dismay, the redhead was standing nearly ten feet away, his gaze fixed on her expectantly. A smirk slowly started to form on his face. Her eyes widened wider still, and she realized that he had been waiting for her to give it away this entire time. Raine's dignity ached, metaphorically of course, at the thought of them targeting _her_ as the one sure to give away their target's hiding spot, but it didn't ache as much as her head as she mentally beat herself for her idiocy.

The redhead gestured to his companion, and they both made their way toward the door to the pantry.

"_No!_" She cried, throwing herself across the table and against the pantry door with a painful _thump_. The redhead's smirk faded in annoyance, and he raised his fist to strike her, a blow which Raine turned her cheek welcome... But before she could blink, he had an arm around his neck, and was wrenched sideways into a battle with the angriest mercenary in Aselia. The second angel, on the other hand, recoiled from her slightly, as if afraid to touch her. Her gaze flickered to Kratos, to find him on the ground on his back, a single arm holding him semi-upright, the other over his face as a shield.

_Kratos!_ Before she could even _think_, she'd leapt over toward him, swinging her staff like a mace. The redhead's eyes widened, and he leapt backward away from Kratos, but it still managed to connect with his shoulder. He hissed in rage and whirled on his companion, as if ready to murder him for letting her interfere, but to Raine's further horror, the pantry was wide open, and the black-haired seraph was dragging a struggling Lloyd up the steps. Kratos leapt to his feet, hand on Flamberge's hilt.

"Draw your sword, and we'll kill him," hissed the redhead as his companion joined him in restraining the twin-swordsman. Lloyd growled slightly, swinging his leg and sweeping the redhead's legs out from under him and almost sending him to the ground. "For goddess's sake, put him _out_!" he seethed angrily, and the black-haired seraph took a nearby pot from the countertop and swung a glancing blow at Lloyd's skull. And the Eternal Swordsman went limp in the arms of his captors.

"Ciao, ladies," mocked the black-haired angel, and they took wing out the doorway without a backwards glance. Kratos gazed after them, his eyes clouded with despair. He stepped slowly toward the door, a hand slightly extended, as if intending to reach out and snatch back his son. Raine stepped forward equally slowly, and her extended hand was to comfort him.

Yet he whirled on her, the sadness in his eyes replaced with an equal dose of pained rage.

"You're _useless_! All you had to do was keep his location a secret, but you practically _pointed them to it_! And in case you hadn't done enough damage, you let them walk right in and _get_ him!" He raged, hand on the hilt of his sword once more. Raine stumbled backwards, hurt and bemused.

"You think I didn't _try_, Kratos?" Her voice was weak and shaky, and she didn't even try to mask the pain. She couldn't help it; her eyes began to burn as they filled with tears, yet she refused to let any fall. "You're not the only one who cares about Lloyd! You don't even _know_ him! You weren't the one who taught him for ten years. You weren't there for his first broken bone, his first triumph, his first friend. _I was_. I was there for all that and more. So don't go there, Kratos Aurion."

It was Kratos's turn to be taken aback. His eyes widened, yet he was rendered speechless. There was a painful silence, not too lengthy yet long enough to feel the effects of. After a few moments, the mercenary looked to Raine, his eyes asking, almost _pleading_ for a truce. Yet she 'hmph'ed and looked away, refusing to accept his peace offering. And thus brought on another pressing silence, this one more pained than the last.

And for quite a while, the only sounds were their breathing, slow and troubled.

"We have to save them," Kratos softly murmured, and after a moment, Raine nodded slowly. She was still quite displeased with him, yet she wasn't stubborn enough to disagree to spite him.

"So you intend to help me? I'm going to need all the aid I can get," he continued, relieved slightly at her compliance. Her eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Surely you don't intend to leave now?"

"If we wait any longer, they'll have killed him by the time we get there," he explained, glancing somewhat worriedly to the doorway. She shook her head, refusing to allow his train of thought.

"If we leave now and fight them as we are, we'll be _killed_!" She objected, but Kratos swiftly replied:

"We might not."

"Well _I_ for one would prefer to avoid premature death, _thankyouverymuch_," she replied, her voice almost daring him to press the matter. He hesitated a moment, gazing at her appraisingly, before sighing and rubbing his temple.

"Damn stubborn half-elf..." He muttered under his breath.

Her normally icy-blue eyes snapped to his, a fire like no other in their depths. Kratos then realized what he'd said, or the implications of it at least. His eyes widened, and he shook his head hastily.

"Raine, no. I didn't mean-"

"I think your meaning is _perfectly_ _clear_, Kratos." She interrupted icily. After a moment, she turned on her heels and stormed from the room.

The moment she got outside, Raine broke into a run, away from the house, away from the day's horrific events, away from _Kratos_. The tears that had formed in her eyes forced their way from her eyes, rolling swiftly down her cheeks. Yet she made no move to stop them.

When she found herself lost, the half-elf decided she'd run far enough, and she seated herself on a large, somewhat flat boulder. And the tears continued to fall.

"I hate Kratos, I _hate_ him! After all I've tried to help him, after I maybe even started to _care_ about him, I was always just a _dirty half-elf_ to him, wasn't I!?" She fumed amidst her tears, drawing her knees up to her chest and planting her face in them.

_Jeremiel... Were you right about him? Has he been lying to me this entire time?_

Silence.

_Jeremiel, are you out there somewhere? I... I think I need you now..._

"I am here, Raine Sage."

And suddenly, a pair of strong, warm arms wrapped around her from behind, and the distinct contours of a face presses into her hair. Normally, she would have jerked away from the sudden touch, the melodically perfect voice, the immediate calming sensation that swept over her mind... But at the moment, it was all she had.

At first the solitude had been killing her. Now, it was the companionship that ate away at her strong wall of emotions, bit by bit.

So she found herself relaxing into the embrace, allowing the fear and anger and hurt and tension to fade into nothingness as his artificial calm dulled her emotions.

"I _trusted_ him..." Her voice was just shy of a whimper, but she managed to keep her dignity in _some_ degree.

"As did I, once..." Replied Jeremiel, his voice a mere whisper in her ear. "He was my closest ally... Yet this time, it was _you_ that he hurt, not me, and for that, I want him to suffer in the worst way possible..." And for the first time, she found herself believing him, sharing his pain. Half of her cursed herself for her weakness, yet the other half... The other half found itself trusting this miraculously kind and beautiful stranger more than she trusted even herself. And she realized that she didn't even for a _moment_ believe this trust was of his sinister planting... And this faith in such a stranger scared her most of all.

"Raine... You still enchant me, with your beauty and your intelligence, and with the strength of your heart. I still can't even begin to explain to you how strongly I feel for you... I'm not even sure a mortal is capable of feeling as such for another. I... I still love you... And my offer still remains. If you are ready now, if you need no more time to think…"

'_Raine, come away with me. I can't stand living in fear that he will hurt you. He'll hurt you eventually, if he doesn't find me. He'll hurt you, knowing it pains me equally, knowing it will draw me to your aid. Let us escape him.'_

The previous night's request replayed in her head, and his eyes filled with sorrow, as if he as well remembered his words.

"I knew he would hurt you somehow, Raine..." He softly murmured into her hair. "I wanted to take you from his grasp before he could do that. But I could not. I... I just thank the heavens that the damage wasn't worse..."

"I'll do it."

"You... You will join me?" The formerly sad face of the blonde seraph lit up in an unmatched joy. And, despite the pain in her eyes and the tears streaking her cheeks, she smiled as well, nodding softly.

Slowly, he rose to his feet, taking her hand to draw her up with him. She obliged, letting him turn her to face him. Their eyes met, and in that moment, seeing the look of complete rapture in the eyes of the seraph before her, she was left without a single doubt in her choice. Slowly, he pulled a silver circlet with violet chunks of mana itself from within the pouch at his waist.

"_Sois un ange_, Raine," he vowed, setting the circlet gently atop her head.

"What does that mean?"

And he whispered, "_be an angel_."

And all at once, in a sudden rush of happiness, liberation, and mana, _she was_.

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**ArissaMay:** Sorry it's short, but I didn't plan much for this chapter aside from the whole pissfest between her and Kratos… And I'm proud to say I got 12 reviews on chapter 6 as of yet. :3 THANK YOU ALL. :D Again, 10 reviews hurries me up. :P 


	8. Intricasises of Being a Monarch

**ArissaMay:** **edited **it. Turns out, the main last sentence got cut off, ruining the effect. Xx. For those who didn't already read it: Sorry it's taken so long. I was unable to procrastinate further on writing a chapter of another fic, so I had to write it before I could write this. Thank you extremely muchly for the reviews… You don't even _know_ how much you rock.

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Chapter Eight

For the first time in Raine's life, she was completely at loss for words. Her surroundings, her company, everything about her was new and amazingly unforeseen. It was like she'd been wrapped in six layers of wool, eyes, nose, ears and all, and Jeremiel's touch had peeled it away. Sights and smells and sounds overwhelmed her senses, and she felt herself drop to one knee with the force of it. Her icy blue eyes were fighting two uncontrollable urges at once, one to remain wide open in wonder, the other to squeeze tight against all the new sensations. Eventually, latter prevails, and her eyes squeeze shut against all the vibrance and painful clarity. Her hands clamp over her ears tight, and she forces herself to stop breathing, to allow silence and peace to settle her mind.

Yet for the first time in her life, the lack of breath didn't trouble her. She was certain it would eventually; whatever had happened to her had not taken away her humanity. But for now, she was safe.

The first thing she allowed herself to be aware of was the adrenaline surging through her veins. No... After pausing, analyzing, she decided it was not adrenaline. Adrenaline made her want to move, run, jump, _fight_. This... This reminded her of the mana rush she got when performing high-level magic arts such as Resurrection or Ray. Yet it coursed through her veins like the aforementioned adrenaline, and, after waiting for the good part of a minute, it didn't seem set on waning any.

Raine mentally began tallying the effects of whatever Jeremiel had done.

Number 1: Increased mana to blood ratio.

She allowed herself to slowly lift her hands from her ears, fighting the stubborn urge to remain in her pleasant silence. At once, five or six different shrill bird cries almost shattered her eardrums, and she clamped her hands back in place to recoup.

Alright, endeavor number two.

Slowly, she re-removed her hands from her ears, greeted once more by the painful bird calls. Cringing in agony, she forced her hands down to her sides, where they clutched at her cloak so tightly her knuckles paled.

The half-elf soon started to hear other sounds among the bird calls. She could hear her breathing, as well as the near-silent breathing of Jeremiel beside her, reminding her of his presence when she was otherwise too distracted. She could hear the rustling of the grasses, the trees, the forest in general. She could hear the breeze, and a squirrel skittering up a tree not so far off.

Number 2: Extremely enhanced hearing.

Though she was starting to feel short of breath, Raine forced herself to keep her breath inside, as the scents were what had overwhelmed her most to begin with. Rather, she opened her eyes, a mere sliver.

And she thanked the goddess that she'd had the sense not to snap them open haphazardly, for even with that sliver, she could see colors and levels of brightness she hadn't even known _existed_. Slowly, as her eyes acclimated, she widened them to half-open, then fully. Everything was bright, everything was extremely colorful, and everything was crystal clear.

Number 3: Extremely _extremely_ enhanced vision.

After a full six minutes of being analytical, her lungs were beginning to cry out for air. She exhaled slowly, mentally preparing for the bombardment to come, but could only prolong it for so long.

She inhaled.

At once, a sickening combination of scents laid waste to her nasal senses, and she blinked twice in alarm, but forced herself to continue inhaling. The distinct scents of grass, trees, many species of creature, air, and Jeremiel were picked out among the tangle of entwined smells, but Raine found the rest too jumbled to identify. Each scent was almost sickly strong, like artificial scents, meant to be used in two-drop increments, sniffed straight from the bottle. Except for Jeremiel's scent, of course. His was just the perfect strength to keep her fighting it's allure.

Now that she thought about it, looking at Jeremiel didn't hurt her eyes as the rest of the world did. So that's just what she did. Meeting her gaze, he smiled slightly.

"I'm sorry for the pain the seraphic clarity wreaks upon you," he murmurs with her enhanced hearing in mind, yet he needn't have bothered; for some reason, for his voice alone, the volume was just as it should have been.

"Is it... like this for _everyone_?" She managed to force out, her own voice awkwardly loud to her own ears. He laughed slightly at her plight, yet not unkindly, followed by a shake of his head.

"It shall fade, Raine Sage, I assure you. If I did not intend it to fade, I would not have inflicted it upon you."

She nodded, satisfied. It gave her a foreign yet pleasant tingle at the fascination he seemed to hold with her name, yet she pushed it away, none too ready to accept yet _another _new sensation, however cordial it seemed. Rather, she settled in, hunkered down, and prepared to wait out this hypersensitive state.

All was silent for a few minutes. The half-elf's eyes were closed, resting peacefully away from the bright lights and colors, and her upper cheek rested gently against her knee. As exciting as this alteration process was, Raine found that she could no longer elude the sleep that stress had distracted her from seeking.

After all, what with working at her desk almost night and day, she was getting used to sleeping in awkward positions.

As reality faded into a soft, fluffy memory, Raine was vaguely aware of falling. Yet it wasn't the scary sort of falling. It was the sort of falling that landed somewhere warm and soft, where something strong yet similarly soft enfolded you and made you feel infinitely safe.

-----

When the Professor re-opened her eyes, she found herself completely and utterly lost. She was surrounded by some sort of an alarmingly comfortable embrace, yet whose embrace it was and why eluded her mind for the time being. She found herself sorely tempted to remain there without complaint, to feign sleep for the sake of comfort alone. Yet Raine was still logic-driven, and her logic was telling her to get the hell up and confront reality. So she did.

Slowly, she shifted slightly to alert the being of her conscious state. Unable to stifle a yawn, she did so, and this attracted the attention of the one who held her.

The moment the flawless features gazed down upon her, the memories came flooding back.

The hurt, courtesy of Kratos.

The misery, courtesy of Kratos.

The comfort, courtesy of Jeremiel.

The enhanced angelic senses...

Are gone. She realized this with a relieved jolt, as she rose into a sitting position and looked all around her. No longer were her ears assaulted by bird cries, nor were her eyes nearly burned by bright lights and colors. Her nose was recovering as well from it's plight. And she couldn't help but smile, half proud that she'd survived that ordeal, though she knew it hadn't been life-threatening in the least.

"Are they... gone?" Though she attempted to speak in her scholar tone, she found her voice was still slightly scratchy with sleep. Jeremiel, however, gazed upon her as if it had been a serenade. For a moment, however, and then his gaze searched the ground for something only he knew. Spotting whatever it was, he extended a hand at full length, as if reaching for something he couldn't quite get to. With a flick of his fingertips, something vaguely round and grey flew into his hand, and he brought it toward her, to reveal a stone.

"Watch this as far as you can," he said simply, and, with a sharp flick of his lower arm, sent it sailing amongst the trees. She did as he'd said, narrowing her eyes to focus as it flew off an uncanny distance among the trees. Only when a thick coppice got in her way did she lose sight of it. Glancing back to Jeremiel, the half-elf waited for him to explain the significance of said rock.

And then it dawned on her.

"Logically, that was impossible. To see that far, I mean." She stated, and he nodded, shrugging slightly.

"Logical and seraphic are two entirely different concepts, Raine, and I suggest you make haste in accepting that."

The scholar nodded in acceptance, and her companion rose fluidly to his feet, finding no need to brush himself off despite the nature of the earth he'd sat upon. The blonde seraph of perfection turned then to offer her a hand.

She gazed up at him a moment, uncertain, before taking his hand for the briefest of moments to allow his aid in rising. However unruffled _his _apparel was, she found herself brushing all manner of dirt and wrinkles and such from her orange traveling coat, re-aligning it until she felt it was as close to perfect as it would ever become.

"So, theoretically, I have wings, correct?" She verified, her voice far more confident than she felt. He nodded, grinning in a fashion that she could almost compare to a pride-filled child.

"You probably feel all the extra mana in your blood, do you not?" She nods in reply. "Find the place where it all seems to come from, and focus all your energy on it. Think as if... As if it's a box, and opening the box will unleash your wings. Understand?... No, of _course_ you understand, it's not too different from calling upon mana for your higher-level spells."

With this in mind, Raine drew a deep breath, closed her eyes, and mentally picked her way down to where the mana seemed to come from. Analyzing the mana patterns, she decided it was located on her chest, just below where her two collar bones intersected. _Aha_, _so _that's_ why the Chosen's crystals fuse to their upper chests like they do. It's the location of their mana itself._

"You seem to be putting two and two together, are you not?" Jeremiel attested rhetorically, his voice almost a purr. The half-elf was silent, however. She gazed idly at a nearby flower, a simple white field-daisy. If one were equipped with senses similar to those of Jeremiel and now Raine, they could almost _hear_ the mechanisms of her brain working steadily. She remains like this, completely still aside from shallow breathing, for the good part of a minute.

And then, her mental workings become obvious. A large cloud of mana comes into existence behind her, running from just behind the nape of her neck to halfway down her thighs. After a moment of indecisive hovering, the cloud splits and condenses into two symmetrical wings.

They were a sight to be seen, even for one who is used to such beings. Where the battle-god seraphim, Yuan and Kratos, had rough, powerful-looking wings of translucent nature, those now extending from the back of the Professor were nearly the polar opposite. Made of flesh and blood like Jeremiel's, her wings were nearly tear-shaped, apart from a slightly outward curved bottom tip. The feathers were an arbitrary assortment of icy blue and white with a sheen of silver feathers scattered among the blues, mostly centered around the upper crest of the wings. They were slim and elegant, and tucked neatly against her back like a royal cape.

Spreading them experimentally, she turned to gaze in wonder at one, then the other. Snaking up a hand, she plucked a few feathers from the right one, ignoring the momentary sting, and narrowed her eyes at them, zooming in. They appeared to be made of glistening mana fibers, rather than mana crystals as the wings she was accustomed to were.

Eyes aglow with eagerness, she flapped her new appendages a couple of times, reveling in the new sensation of wind sliding amongst her feathers. Raine couldn't help it but break out in a grin, though the act so uncharacteristic of her that it felt awkward and out of place. The blonde grinned in return, and spread his own wings as well. With a single deliberate flap, he was in the air, hovering gently a few feet off the ground. He extended a single hand down toward her, a hopeful glint in his eyes. Meeting his gaze, the grin faded into a more serious look of uncertainty at the prospect of actually flying.

For a split second, she was back in the storm, falling through the raindrops with no clue of up or down, plunging toward her most feared enemy: the sea.

Shuddering slightly, she looked away, shaking her head. Undeterred, the other seraph reached down and gently took her hands anyways, holding them between his and bringing them to rest against his lips.

"For me?"

And the flashing scenes of terror in her mind dissipated as she once more met his gaze. They waited there a minute, the only noise being the gentle rhythm of Jeremiel's wings keeping him aloft, awaiting her decision.

Then, with a single nod, her fate was sealed.

-----

Of everything that had happened in her life, Raine knew without a single doubt that flying, soaring through the air of her own accord with the wind in her hair and feathers, was without a doubt the most exhilarating experience of her life. Sure, it had been kind of shaky at first, and she'd almost nosedived into a hillside or forest a few times, but now, she was starting to get the hang of it.

Releasing a carefree laugh, she barrel-rolled to the left, her arms extended straight out to the sides. Jeremiel watched her carefully through the corner of his eye, making certain she wouldn't lose control. As soon as the half-elf's safety was assured, he turned his eyes to the horizon, just as she loop-de-looped around a nearby cloud. He smiled knowingly, his own spirits brightened by her joy.

For now, things were peaceful, perfect. For now. But he had to be careful, else she would convince him against his cause, thus ruining the entirety of his efforts so far.

Raine pulled up beside him then, her eyes on him and her arms still spread somewhat for balance.

"Where is our destination?"

He gazed off over the horizon a moment, where a long, slender structure was protruding over the planet's curve. An absent-minded smile formed on the corners of his lips.

"The Tower of Salvation, Raine. It's just over the horizon."

"What awaits us there?" She questioned, eyebrows slightly raised.

"Our _future_."

And before she could demand more answers, he plunged into a dive, pinwheeling down below the clouds and forcing her to flap wildly to avert her path and follow. By the time she'd caught up, he being a far more experienced flier with a head start, they had almost arrived. Time sure _flies_ when you have wings.

Jeremiel slowed to a gentle glide on approach, and the Professor followed suit. The area seemed abandoned, just as they had left it... But she could sense it, the air of power and foreboding about the tower, and she knew that abandoned was the one thing this tower _wasn't_.

They hit the ground running. Well, Jeremiel did, and it was more of a power-walk. The aura of innocence had dissolved into the mana-rich air, leaving a powerful ruler in it's wake. Yet the half-elf only found this change the slightest bit unnerving; she could recognize a battle-hardened mask when she saw one. Hell, she _lived_ in hiding behind one, for the most part. So she followed this new, warrior Jeremiel up the steps and through the front door, allowing her wings to disappear to give her mana supply a rest and hastening to catch up.

The scene that greeted her on the inside was astounding. She was on the border of a massive circular room, at least 100 feet in diameter and double that in height, filled with all varieties of lesser angel warriors. All the mana symbols and runes that were etched into the walls was aglow with a faintly turquoise light, an endless pattern that covered every available surface as far up as she could see. The scholar found herself standing in the center, her gaze drinking in the sights hungrily.

_This place is absolutely _fabulous_! What do those runes say over there? How do you read this angelic writing on the floors? How does this mana course through these etchings so freely? Is the entire tower like this? How did they manage to so drastically change a tower many miles high? Is this mana similar to that which form wings? If one were to touch the etchings, would they be re-energized? Does this power the tower? Or is it merely for decoration? _

She hastily groped for her bag, where her notebook and writing utensils lay in wait, unable to tear her eyes from the scenery.

Only when she was jolted into thinking by the unfamiliar absence of her worn leather pack did she come to her senses and realize that she was standing smack dab in the center of a horde of unfamiliar and possibly hostile angels.

Every pair of eyes in the room was upon her, and some hands were sliding cautiously to the hilts of their respective swords. Instinctively, she closed her eyes, listening... And found herself completely encircled. Gaze darting around in search of the one familiar face, she soon located Jeremiel a few steps up on one of the staircases, unnoticed. She shot him a slightly anxious glance, something along the lines of 'alright, you can call them off any time now', but a mischievous smirk formed on his lips.

That bastard! He intended to leave her to deal with this herself!

With an aggravated growl, she dismissed the blonde seraph from her thoughts, once more focusing on the crowd surrounding her. More and more hands were drawn to their respective weapons, and every couple of seconds Raine heard with painful clarity the metallic hiss of another sword being drawn or the _chink_ of another weapon being readied.

She spun a slow circle, surveying the crowd helplessly.

Then her jaw set.

Her eyebrows furrowed slightly.

A ferocious glint lit in her eyes.

And in the blink of an eye, the round, serrated blade on a stick at her waist was snatched free, her wrist had flicked it into a full-length staff, and she was twirling it with such deft agility that it appeared a force-field of silver had risen before her.

Her display coming to an end, she came to a stop with her legs spread slightly in a battle stance, her staff's blunt end nestled in the crook between the floor and her boot, and the sharp end out at arm's length.

The angels blinked at each other in surprise, apparently baffled by this strange woman's display of defiance, before one to her left which seemed fleetingly familiar raised his sword and cried, "Slay the winged intruder!"

"Now, now." Though he spoke in a soft voice, it carried over the crowd as if he'd shouted it. Every set of eyes shot to Jeremiel, before widening in surprise. A few of the warriors even bowed, and many more offered half-bows. "What sort of impression would it make on your Lord, if you slay his Queen before she's even past the threshold?"

And again, all eyes were on Raine. The ring widened in shock, and many a sword or spear dropped uselessly to the floor. She tried her best to keep hold of her fierce stance, knowing full well that it wouldn't do to seem surprised or awkward in front of those one suddenly comes to rule over. She gazed out around the circle once, before turning to glance at Jeremiel. He smiled, extending a hand slightly, and she took that as a cue to join him. The crowd parted, forming a path between the two, but Raine merely laughed a short laugh, reaching deep inside her and praying that, at least this once, she wouldn't fumble up. Within moments, her wings had formed once more, to the awe of the crowd, and she hovered over to his side.

"Men and women alike, bow before your new Queen, Lady Raine Sage," Jeremiel commanded, and all at once, they did.

Every being in the room dropped into varying forms of a bow, some on one knee, some on their knees with their face to the ground. Raine couldn't help but turn a light shade of red, and she turned to the man beside her, hoping her flustered look would convince him to cease the bowing. Yet the faintest of smirks appeared once more on his lips, and he did no such thing.

_What a bastard_.

But Raine knew one thing for sure... This was the sort of bastard she _didn't_ despise.

-----

_"Go, men, the night is yours. Seize the traitor and bring him to me. Now that I have what I want, nothing should stand in your way."_

-----

Noon found them out soaring once more, the wind dancing in their hair and feathers and laughter lacing the air. By now, Raine was certain her delight was of Jeremiel's artificial creation, yet for the time being, she didn't care. It was far more pleasant than the misery, for certain. She had been introduced to his generals and advisors and the like, and shown her quarters, but the Seraph Lord could tell she needed a break from the chaos of the Tower. So they went for a flight. Not only was it just as exhilarating as before, but it gave them a nice chance to converse.

"Now, aside from all the sensory expansions that you've surely already figured out, you've also had your mana levels boosted drastically. Yet you have nothing stronger than that exsphere you've always had aiding you along. It makes you stronger, in a sense, that the power is your own, within _you_ rather than a crystal. This way, you are a true goddess-gifted angel. But it comes with risks... Your powers were already mighty, Raine, and this just makes you all the stronger. But unlike a Cruxis Crystal, which is controlled by your brain, these powers are connected to your heart. In this sense, be extremely cautious with them, for in times of extreme emotion, you may find your control on them slipping."

Raine paused, processing this information carefully, before nodding. They were silent for a while, simply enjoying the flight.

All of a sudden, the half-elf was aware of Jeremiel's gaze upon her. She quickly met his gaze, uncertain of if he'd spoken to her and she'd missed it, or what his purpose was.

"What is it?"

He paused a moment. "You truly are beautiful, Raine Sage. As I told you when we first met, and as I'm telling you now, gazing upon your perfection, how truly stunning you are."

The Professor looked away, refusing to allow him to see the red creeping over her cheeks. She couldn't quite describe how powerfully it delighted her to be addressed in such a manner, though if questioned on it she'd deny it for all she was worth.

But she couldn't help but think, in a small crevice of her mind, that it would mean far more coming from a different being...

At once, as if by magic, the thoughts disappeared. Curious blue eyes turned to her flying partner, to find his darker shade of blue eyes already upon her, a curious flicker of disquiet in their depths. Raine narrowed her eyes ever-so-slightly, but by the time she could look closer, it had disappeared. Their eyes met a moment longer in silence, before Jeremiel lifted his gaze to the landscape before them. The half-elf followed suit, and she found that they were once more facing the Tower of Salvation.

"Are you certain you wish to be my Queen, Raine? There will be hardships, choices so difficult to make that one who lacks your innate resilience and brilliance would likely kill themselves before they chose one option or the other. The warriors may not take to you immediately either, so you should be prepared for a few more conflicts before you are settled in. But I will protect you as best I can, and this I hope is enough."

Without a thought, the Professor nodded in affirm. What did she have to lose that she hadn't already lost beyond regaining?

"I'm certain."

"I am glad you are so sure, for we have a visitor awaiting us in the tower, and your first decision as the Seraph Queen."

She couldn't help but smile inwardly at the thought. It was probably some criminal, a murderer perhaps, finally caught before he could kill any more innocent souls. Or a thief of important artifacts. _If the bastard even _touched_ any of my ruins, he'll wish he never crossed Professor, _Queen_ Raine Sage!_

Within moments, they were gliding down toward the entrance platform, hovering low over the stone steps and coming to a rest feet from the door. It slid open soundlessly, and the duo stepped inside.

The change was instant. Raine's back straightened near as flat as the marble floor, and her shoulders rolled back as well. Her chin lifted ever-so-slightly, turning the Professor into the _Queen_, a picture of grace and beauty, the silver circlet still atop her head. Jeremiel watched her a moment from the corner of his eye, a coy half-smile and a look of pride forming on his facial features, before he as well assumed the stance of royalty and stepped up to join her.

Raine felt a smile slowly rising on her lips; this was so much like an intricate dance, it astounded her. Your shoulders go here, your chin goes here, each step goes here and here, and if you do one step out of place, the entire image comes crashing down. It was a challenge... And the Professor had always loved a challenge.

A large number of half-elves circled the base of the thrones, a buzz of excitement so thick among them that the half-elf could almost feel it, and a malicious intent in the hearts of a good number of them, strong enough that she could nearly scent it's bloodlike aroma. The moment their eyes laid upon their King and Queen, striding in unison toward the designated thrones, the winged beings parted.

With level steps the two walked up the path created. Though her eyes were straight ahead, Raine watched Jeremiel carefully through the corners. In truth, the only thing she knew to do was stand up tall and _act _like she knew what she was doing. The rest, she was just following his lead as closely as humanely possible.

Including keeping a blank face, despite the slowly mounting curiosity as to what had attracted such attention.

The path to the thrones seemed unbearably long; earlier, when she had been surrounded by the very beings who had parted from her path, this room had seemed so miniscule, yet now, it seemed to go on an eternity. She supposed, as she had always supposed, that distance and time were terms relative to how eager one is to be doing the task at hand.

And, ironically, her moment of analyzation seemed to have brought her far closer to the throne than the entire rest of the walk. She was nearly close enough to see what the others were staring at, _gawking_, for use of a more appropriate word. Well, gawking and jeering. Yet each being that caught sight of their Lord and his Lady silenced, gazing on them expectantly instead. Less and less beings gawked and jeered until all was silent.

_Curse that infernal being that stands in my line of vision!_

Aside from one spear-bearing woman, she would have a clear view of the object in question, presumably a prisoner. Yet, to her dismay, they had turned away from the being and toward the throne, and, by the time she had passed the pike-woman, the only way to see him would be to quite blatantly dismiss her untouchable façade.

Oh the intricacies of being a monarch.

Painstakingly slowly, they stepped up each step to the two chairs that awaited. An hour passed, then two, then seven, then a year. Thirty seconds after they started up the steps, they came to their chairs. And, in similar unison, the King and Queen of the Angels sat.

The view from upon the throne was amazing, astounding, yet only a fleeting thought was paid to such little details. Immediately, two icy blue eyes zeroed in on the prisoner...

And her eyes widened in alarm. A gasp of shock and utter dismay tore from her throat, faster than her hand could fly up to stop it, though it did so anyways, hovering over her mouth in disbelief. There on his knees on the floor, with a blindfold over his eyes, his hands bound behind him, and an armed seraph at each shoulder, was Kratos Aurion.

Raine half-rose up in her chair, unable to breathe with the force of the urge to run to him, to fight off his guards and free him, before recalling her newfound social status and sitting once more. Every pair of eyes was upon her, a mix of shock, confusion, and distaste.

Jeremiel's lips pursed slightly, and his eyebrows furrowed in disappointment. He nodded to a large man at the base of the short stairway, apparently a guard of sorts. This guard in turn nodded to another guard, and they proceeded to draw their swords.

"Clear out, all of you! Our Lord wishes to hold this traitor's trial in solitude!" The first called, with similar confirmation from the other, and they slowly began herding the angels from the room. A part of Raine's mind recognized that she had disappointed him, and he'd evacuated the room to conserve his dignity and her own before any more damage was done, but this recognition was buried beneath the confusion and whirl of emotions that seeing Kratos again stirred up.

She felt Jeremiel's attention on her once more, and for a moment, that familiar sedating mental fog, but in a harsh fit of anger, she shoved the fog back wherever it came from.

And through all this, Kratos had sat, unmoving, unaware that anything was amiss. His head was hung, and his back slightly slouched. The only thing that told her he hadn't just given up was the tension. She could sense it, every muscle in his body was tense, and enough so to feel it even at that distance. The guards could feel it too and, though they were armed and he was tied and blindfolded, they were careful not to touch him.

She looked to Jeremiel, searching his gaze for any possible chance that this was all just one big joke... To find none. Her eyes shot back to Kratos, beginning to assess the damage.

_'Damn, stubborn half-elf!'_

His words rang out in her head, and hearing it again, it seemed far more malicious than it had the first time. A whole new wave of hurt washed over her, to be confronted with this amidst her thoughts of risking her life to free him, and she felt anger slowly starting to build once more.

"Your king and queen have arrived," one of the guards informed their captive, a smirk of malicious pleasure spreading on his lips.

And then the blindfold came off.

Auburn eyes shot up to gaze defiantly at Jeremiel… but they didn't make it quite that far.

He would have gasped as well, if his throat would have let him, but it had closed the moment he spotted her. After a few moment's struggle, he managed to choke out, "Raine!"

The guard who'd unblindfolded the captive seraph gave him a sharp cuff on the back of the head. "You don't address the queen in such a manner, you worthless traitor!" His words were spat like poison, yet Kratos took no mind, his eyes locked on Raine. She glared back at him a moment, once more hurt by what he'd said, and the hurt made her furious. Yet she couldn't deny that her eyes were feeling slightly moist.

"Easy, boys. He's just angry that he blew _his_ chance with her," Jeremiel called nonchalantly, and Kratos growled under his breath, his wrists working their bonds mutinously.

At their Lord's words, however much they wanted to give the former Lord Aurion a harder blow, the two guards stepped backwards a couple of paces, giving him room.

"You are a traitor and guilty of treason and murder of your own winged kin. What have you to say for yourself, Kratos?" Jeremiel listed the charges with a practiced level tone, though a slightly derisive edge laced the rhetorical demand at the conclusion.

"You are guilty of the same, you bastard!" Kratos bellowed in rage, his eyes aglow with hatred. "You killed your own mother, you killed _Martel_, just to be king!"

"_Lies_!"

This single word did Jeremiel hiss, but he hissed it so fervently and with eyes so defiantly narrowed that it unnerved even Raine.

Kratos glanced at the silver-haired scholar a moment, fleetingly, but refused to allow his dismay to show any further, turning away in dismissal. "Hmph. Say what you will."

"Who are you, telling _me_ what to say?" Jeremiel demanded with a mock-incredulous tone. "Last time I checked, _you_ were the prisoner here." And so he turned to Raine, his eyes softening instantly into that familiar look of adoration. He gazed at her a moment, and she met his gaze as steadily as she could, despite the confusion she felt inside. His next words were slow and deliberate. "What shall we do with him, my queen?" He purred, but before she could even _think_, Kratos had locked his gaze back on her, and his voice, when he called, was slightly pleading.

Raine, don't listen to him!" The imprisoned seraph cried, to get her attention. Their eyes locked, and he continued in a softer voice, certain she'd be able to hear him perfectly even if he'd whispered. "Listen to _me._ He's _using_ you, Raine. He's using you to get to _me_."

She bit her lip as the force of the words struck her like a blow, but before she could turn away, Jeremiel was right there, leaning closer to murmur in her ear.

"He'll never understand you, Raine, my beautifully perfect Raine... To him, you're just another _half-elf_. He'll never love you as I do, my queen."

A look of recognition dawned on Kratos, and in turn, a look of hopeless desperation too powerful to hide.

"Raine! _No!_ Don't believe him! He doesn't even _care_ about you! ...Raine, I'm sorry for what I said. _Please_, Raine, just _listen to me_."

In that split second, Kratos had won. In that following moment, Raine had reached for her staff and tensed her muscles to stand, to aid him, despite the fury she still felt for the auburn-haired mercenary-seraph.

But then, in the moment after, Jeremiel was at her ear once more. "He left you, Raine. Three years ago."

She felt her chest tighten with pain, and her windpipe followed close. Her eyes widened with the force of this new emotional blow, and for a moment, her gaze lingered sadly, longingly on Kratos. He gazed back at her, desperation and contrition and pain all evident in his gaze. And then, as a single tear rolled down her cheek, she turned away.

And it was decided.

The prisoner all but went limp. His head bowed in silent mourning, and his shoulders slumped forward slightly.

"To the keep, men. And if he escapes, it's your lives."

At Jeremiel's orders, the guards nodded, stepping toward their charge once more and grabbing him by the forearms. They pulled him to his feet, yet he didn't resist, didn't glare at them, didn't pull away.

The prisoner was willingly led from the room. His eyes never left the floor. Through the winding paths down staircases he was led, without a single protest. And when they reached the bottom floor, nearly a hundred feet below ground level, and roughly shoved into the farthest cell from the door, he collapsed to his knees, head still hung. The cell was so damp, a being would rot before they'd starve, and the only light was through the open door, which, with a fleeting view of the guards' silhouettes, shut him in total darkness. But the only thought in the seraph's mind was, _she didn't forgive me_...

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**ArissaMay:** Gad. I feel horrible now. I'm all teary-eyed, thanks to you stupid readers who for some reason like this story. TT –sighs sadly- No, you guys aren't stupid. I just wasn't looking forward to doing that to poor Kratty... TT Reviews me hurrying, again, but by the looks of the last two chapters' review counts, I don't have to worry. This time, me dropping everything to write the next chapter is when I get _fifteen_ reviews, since I got ten in a matter of, oh, like two days last time. XD 


	9. The Turning of Tides

**ArissaMay:** This chapter is dedicated to **sasukesfang**, the 15th reviewer of Chapter 8 and the one who explained in such a detailed fashion why she liked my story rather than just saying she liked it, and **My Lovely Yume**, who added Choices to her 'Must Read' section of her profile.

On another note, this begins what I call Act II. It's not really that different, but there's a large time gap, and when things are split into parts, like Part 1 and Part 2 or Act 1 and Act 2, they look fancier. :P

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**---Act II---**

Chapter Nine

A year went by.

Well, by Raine's count, it was eleven months, twelve days, six hours, and fifty one minutes.

The half-elf was settled into her life as queen, so much that by now, the acts of a monarch came naturally. She had her own quarters, the size of her beachside cottage in itself, just for her private use. She had angels who would wait on her hand and foot, though she rarely let them. She had no clothes that weren't silk and the finest materials.

Jeremiel had told the maids to throw away her orange traveling robe nearly six months ago while she was out for a fly. He didn't think she wanted or needed it anymore, he said.

To her, it was like losing an old friend.

She sometimes sat down, surrounded in books, and wrote and analyzed like she used to. Yet no ink traces could be found on her cheek or nose or anywhere else. No, there was no room for a queen to have ink on her face. And besides, her studies were only half-hearted nowadays anyways.

Don't get me wrong, she was perfectly happy with her life as the Queen of the Angels. But somehow, the pieces of her old life didn't fit into her new one. The last time she'd seen a ruin was nearly eight months ago, when she flew over Asgard on one of her flights. She could no longer focus on her studies, even _The Harnessing and Deflecting of Mana_, which she was so immersed in when she lived near Sybak. And once more, she was essentially alone.

And then there was Kratos.

She could deny the facts to anyone but herself; the facts were, she thought about Kratos. A lot.

Every couple of days, she had gone to see him... But the farthest she'd ever reached was the door to the prison. She just couldn't do it. Couldn't see him, see what shape he was in, all because of _her._

Today wasn't one of those days.

Rather, Raine was sitting at her desk in what had to be the most comfortable chair in existence, a book open in front of her, and her eyes fixed on the first word on the page, unmoving. She didn't even know quite what book it was, nor care more than a split second's pondering. Her mind was a million places at once, and constantly switching thought processes, so quickly, in fact, that she couldn't focus on any one of them.

A loud thump brought the Professor to her senses. She jerked slightly in alarm, weakly reaching for her staff in the remainders of her long-dormant fighting reflexes, before her eyes came to rest on a book. She stared at it blankly a moment, looking over it's unfamiliar cover, before reaching down to pick it up. Opening the front cover, she was confronted with a page of familiar handwriting. After a moment, she recognized it as her own.

Intrigued, the half-elf began to read, and actually_ focus_ on the book, for the first time in at least couple of months.

_'February 21' _the first line read. She tilted her head ever-so-slightly. A... journal? Sitting back in her chair, Raine continued to read. She hastily finished the first page, then the second, and finally the conclusive third page. It was the first day, the day Kratos had arrived on her doorstep. '_I remember this...'_ she realized. '_But this... doesn't sound like me. It sounds far too confident, far too collected. Like someone with their life fit together like a puzzle trying to describe what it's like to be in pieces.'_

But she remembered, she _was_ in pieces, or at least felt like it. And she had been so_ happy_ when Kratos had arrived. So happy for company that she'd welcome a traitor with open arms, one who abandoned his friends, and even his _son_ without a second glance. She was so happy for even _his_ company, since nobody had ever attempted to visit her. Why had nobody come?

Being a queen, she realized, was just like being a scholar outside of Sybak. No, it was _worse_. Here she was, surrounded by over a hundred angels, living alongside the most powerful being in Aselia, yet she was completely and utterly alone.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

"Come in," she offered, gazing in that general direction to see who it was. A man about Lloyd's age with curls of deep mossy-green hair stepped into the room, bowing his head respectfully for a moment before looking up to gaze her in the eye.

She smiled, and not one of those polite humor-the-other-person sort of smile that she was obligated as queen to do at least five times a day, but a real, honest to Martel smile.

"Sabriel," she greeted him warmly, and he smiled as well, approaching now that she'd greeted him. Sabriel was her bodyguard, her main 'servant', and her confidant. He was, essentially, the only friend she'd had for the last half a year, and she trusted him. She talked to him... Well, more than anyone else, at least.

Things had been going downhill ever since, well... a couple of months after she'd become queen. Jeremiel had changed, but in a way which preserved his former self perfectly. She found it hard to explain, especially since she hadn't been working with words as much as of late.

"My Queen, there's... something I think you should hear."

Raine's brow furrowed in confusion, but she stood, stepping toward the man, who turned and headed hastily toward the door. As an afterthought, she snatched her staff from it's place against the wall on the way out. Better safe than sorry.

It didn't take her long to realize that Sabriel was leading her to the main hall. She vaguely recognized the corridor they were using, and was pretty sure it came out behind the throne, though she wasn't certain. The only thing of which she _was_ certain was the matter's importance, which she could tell in the way Sabriel's steps had slowly hastened into nearly a jog, and the somewhat anxious look on his usually serene face.

Eventually they came to a door at the end of the corridor. The duo paused, glancing at each other for a moment before Sabriel slowly, noiselessly opened the door. She tilted her head and furrowed her brow in confusion, and the guard nodded toward the back of the throne. From there, she could hear Jeremiel's voice resonating from the other side.

"-and I expect no mess. I can't even _begin _to impress upon you the importance of disposing of the body _cleanly_ this time. But... make sure he sees fit to _suffer_ first."

Raine glanced to Sabriel, who made a shooing motion and nodded outward, away from the throne. Taking the hint, Raine smoothed her shirt, which very much resembled that which she'd used in the maiden ceremony, aside from it's sapphire-blue. _And it's sapphires_, she noted, glancing in mild distaste at the many small blue stones adorning her shirt. It wasn't that she disliked sapphires, it was that she disliked _wasting_ them.

But now Sabriel was looking slightly worried, shooing her a bit frantically, so she hastily stepped around the base of the throne's platform. Reaching the stairs, where her king could see her, she nodded a greeting. Jeremiel grinned, that same pure, lovesick grin he'd offered her that day a year ago, which brought a smile to Raine's face as well. He had changed, in so many ways... but whenever he looked at her like that, it kind of made everything worth it, in her mind.

"Good morning, my queen," he offered, still grinning somewhat.

"Nothing like a bit of execution to start off your morning," the she-seraph commented dryly in return, starting up the steps.

The king's grin faded to a slightly mischievous smirk. "Indeed. I was just ordering the death of that worthless fool Kratos. I've gotten all I need from him, so why let his pathetic existence contaminate our tower any longer?"

Raine stumbled in her shock, reaching out a hand to grab the railing before she fell over entirely. Straightening out, she gazed at Jeremiel in horror.

"Wh-why?" She stammered. The seraph's brow furrowed in confusion and mild distaste.

"Because he is a traitor, Raine. Because he killed my people, my _friends_..." She could hear the pain in his voice as he took a moment to mourn the loss once more. "Because he will kill me, too, if he gets the chance. And he will kill you too, Raine."

"No!" She refused to believe it.

"He will kill you just as he kills everyone else; without a second glance, with not a shred of mercy or compassion in his eyes."

Raine felt her hands shaking ever-so-slightly, and she clenched them into fists to still it. "E-... Even if that's true, you can't _kill_ him..."

"What use is he to you?" He demanded, and she shook her head, almost at loss for words.

"He isn't any use to me, but surely he's of use to _you_? You _can't_ kill someone with so much potential!"

Now an anger flared up in the eyes of her king. She'd seen it before, this silent rage directed at other beings, but never herself... And somehow, with all her will-power, she managed not to flinch away.

"Since when does the queen get to override her king's decisions?" He slowly questioned, but the way he carefully pronounced each word showed that it was just the strength of his self-control keeping him civil. This only convinced her to hasten up the steps, so that she could gaze at him on a level plane.

"Since the king's brain doesn't seem to be working properly," she shot back, the fire lighting up in her eyes as well. Jeremiel hissed furiously, and before she could blink, he'd closed the distance between them, his hand coming in harsh contact with the side of her face with enough force to send her to her knees.

Through the corner of her eye, Raine could see Sabriel looking on in horror, but the king didn't seem to notice.

"I will _kill_ him, and _you will watch_."

A string of words began to form in her head, and under her breath, she began to mutter them, weakly at first, but increasingly confident as the words went by. After a few moments, her gaze lifted to Jeremiel, determination, anger, and even fear all held inside it. From her position on her knees, she pointed her staff at Jeremiel. "**_JUDGMENT RAY!_**"

At once, a bright light erupted from the end of her staff, and she shielded her eyes against it in the crook of her opposite arm. She heard chaos around her, and a cry of agony, and then nothing. Slowly opening her eyes, she glanced around her. Jeremiel lay on the ground, his eyes closed.

He was dead.

Raine's eyes widened in shock. She rose to her feet, only to stumble backwards down the stairs a short way and fall to her knees again. Her gaze was fixed on the body of her king.

She was vaguely aware of Sabriel coming up to kneel beside her, concern and fear in his gaze.

"Raine!?"

"I didn't mean to _kill_ him..." She whispered shakily.

"Raine?"

"I just meant to scare him, maybe hurt him a little, so he wouldn't hurt me again..." Her throat was starting to close up, making her choke on her words.

"Raine!"

"I snapped, I lost control of my powers, I couldn't stop it, I-"

"_Raine_! Calm yourself! We have to get you out of hear. I hear the other guards coming, and I intend for you to be gone by then. I... I'll take responsibility for what they find here."

Though his words were soft, she heard them loud and clear. Her wide eyes shot to the angel beside her, the last friend she had.

"But that means you-"

"-will be killed." He smiled sadly, but Raine looked horrified, shaking her head slightly. "Raine, it's the only way. And I'd rather die protecting you than for any other cause. You've taught me more than anyone else has, been a better friend than anyone else could. Now go!"

The she-seraph hesitated, her gaze still horrorstruck, but she slowly nodded. After a moment, she threw herself onto the other seraph in the tightest hug she could manage, before rising to her feet, staff in hand, and dashing off down the steps.

A small smile crossed the face of the condemned angel as his queen slipped out a side door. "Stay alive, Raine. The fate of the world may depend on you."

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**ArissaMay:** Shorter, and... Alright, I know this chapter sucked, but I've been addicted to a really cool all-fandom livejournal RPG lately, Sendoff it's called, and I had to fight my craving of that this entire chapter. Plus, it had been a while since I've written anything, and… Well… Basically sorry it sucked. Fifteen reviews means speedy update:D 


	10. Survivors Reunite

**ArissaMay:** Alright, fourteen reviews. I know I said fifteen. But **My Lovely Yume **did… something. XD Wow, it's too late at night to be trying to remember this stuff. Anyways though, she did something wonderfuliciously awesome, so I told her it counted as a review and I'd update early. This chapter is dedicated to **India**, my newest Kraine friend. Much love, girly. :3

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Chapter Ten

Six months, maybe more, since he'd last seen daylight.

Or perhaps, a little over a month.

The man hadn't even tried to keep track, though if he forced himself to take his best guess, he'd say somewhere around a quarter of a year.

Such time was trivial to him, he who'd seen four thousand and twenty nine other similar years. Yet at the same time, while he may be infinite, those whom he had somehow dedicated his life to preserve had their days numbered. It had plagued him, at first.

_Everything_ had plagued him, at first.

The cell was the epitome of miserable nothingness. No light came in, not a single ray, and even with his angelic vision, he could not see a thing. There were no windows, of course, and all guards were positioned outside the hallway door, Kratos assumed, defeating the need for lighting.

Yes, there was a hallway... Cloudily, the man could recall what it looked like when he entered. Through a long hallway of some sort of tainted stone. Down some stairs, turn right, down another few stairs. There's a long hallway of cells, their iron bars enforced by the strongest of magic.

He was led to the... the second cell, he recalled, and thrown in forcefully. Kratos had not resisted, falling to his knees at once on the damp stone floor. He didn't think he could have resisted, even if he'd wanted to; it was as if he no longer had the strength to try.

Then the guards had disappeared, taking the light of their candles with them. There had been two of them, the guards… or was it three? He couldn't recall. The man with four thousand years of memories as clear as daylight could not remember something six months ago. Or a little over a month ago. Or a quarter of a year ago. Whichever it had been.

The guards seemed to take pleasure in keeping him so utterly blind and alone. Because of his inactivity, the effects of his Cruxis Crystal had dulled; Cruxis Crystals respond to activity, to fighting, to danger, to fear, and that is what stimulates them. That's what Mithos had used as his excuse for giving the declining world Desians, at least. Apparently, it was true, however, as he had soon started to feel a hunger and thirst gnawing at his throat and stomach, and a weariness at the end of each day.

Every so often, he'd find food in a corner of his cell, though he'd not once caught even a hint of anyone coming and putting it there… Though it was mere luck that he found it at all, by stumbling upon it in the darkness. Often it tasted a week or so old, not that it was fresh to begin with. If he didn't have the strength and endurance of an angel, he would have starved to death long ago.

Yet… that, to Kratos, would not be too opposed a fate. He'd allowed his own son to be captured and killed at the same hands that killed Martel.

And Raine... She'd turned her back on him. He'd let her fall into Jeremiel's clutches. He'd failed her.

-----

An indefinite amount of time later, a flicker caught his attention.

A _flicker_.

It was the faint, wavering flame of a candle, yet after so long in utter blackness, even so little a light burned his eyes like mild acid. He heard footsteps as well, approaching steadily at a slightly hurried tempo.

The man, for no longer could he bear the title 'seraph' or even 'mercenary' with any sort of pride, closed his eyes and rested his head on the hard, damp wall against which he leaned. Awaiting his fate. He was eerily calm; the time when he would have gotten up, drawn his sword, fought off his imminent death, was long gone. Now, he doubted he even had the strength to rise to his feet, to go to the execution chamber, or wherever they decided to free him from his misery, so he grimly hoped that they, by some chance, had brought the slaughtering tool with them and could off him where he sat.

The footsteps... something was wrong. They kept pausing, as if uncertain. Then they came to his cell... He sat, unmoving. Waiting. Yet no more noise came. No jingling of keys, nor any other footsteps to show why he wasn't being removed yet, why they were hesitating.

Then the candlelight shifted, rose slightly, to illuminate the silhouette of a face. A face he'd thought dead long ago.

Lloyd!

In a surprising burst of energy, the man leapt to his feet, crossing to the cell bars with a speed he'd not seen since he was first imprisoned. Though Kratos was forced to squint slightly, still unused to the light, he knew without a doubt that it was his son. Despite his renewed vigor, by the time Kratos had reached the bars, the twin-swordsman had fumbled with the keys and was proceeding to insert the right one in the keyhole. Lloyd struggled with it a bit, his focus on his father rather than properly unlocking the cell, but managed to get it right after a bit.

Kratos, meanwhile, felt the rush of energy slowly trickle away, the shock and joy at seeing his son being no match for the year of inactivity and poor nutrition. He grasped the cell bars for support, resting against them slightly, his eyes still narrowed painfully.

The man felt the bars he was relying on to hold him upright lurch to the side as Lloyd slid open the stubbornly resistant cell door. Unbalanced, he stumbled forward, reflexively grabbing hold of the nearest objects to catch him. In front of him, Lloyd let out a short gasp of pain, and from this, Kratos surmised that the sturdy objects in his grasp were his son's broad shoulders.

He raised his head slightly, slowly, to lock gazes with his slightly bewildered son. For a moment the two sat in silence, the only sound being their heavy breathing. Then, his eyes betraying his uncertainty, Kratos pulled himself toward the twin-swordsman and enfolded him in a harsh embrace.

Lloyd froze, shocked. The look on his face would have been priceless, had Kratos been able to see it, been in better spirits, and not been locked in a dungeon for a good few months. After a moment, though, he returned the embrace.

And they lingered there for a moment. It was like a new freedom, like something that had been compressing down on Kratos for years, something he hadn't even known existed, was dissipating in seconds.

Then Kratos drew back, his hands still on his son's shoulders. The young man blinked back at him, more surprised and confused than Kratos had ever seen him. Then, after a moment, a large grin broke out across Lloyd's face. Kratos took this as his cue to once more locate the now-still cell door to lean on. Then he turned to the twin-swordsman.

"How did-" Kratos cut off, blinking in surprise. That voice... was that him? It made someone with a throat condition sound like a prized singer, harsh and raspy from unuse. He swallowed, a dull ache having arisen in his throat, much like what would occur in his muscles when he started to use them again as well.

Swallowing again, he retried. "How did you get in here? What happened to the guards?" He demanded, though his words were slow and his voice was just as rough as it was the first try. "Surely there were guards posted outside my door. And where did you get the keys? And what happened after they took you captive in Iselia? I... I thought you were..."

Dead.

But, of course, he couldn't bring himself to say it.

"Sabriel let me out," beamed Lloyd, though his voice as well was slightly rough. The mercenary gazed at him a moment, as close to a blank stare as Kratos would lower himself to offer. "Sabriel, he was... the Professor's bodyguardish servant person."

"Raine, how is she?" The blank stare had changed to one of interest, concern, and worry in a matter of seconds, and Lloyd eyed his father for a moment. Maybe Colette was right after all...

"She... Well, uh... Alive, I think?" Lloyd scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, and the mercenary then realized how unusual his concern was. He paused to take a deep breath.

"Answer my questions. But hurry, we need to get out of here before Jeremiel realizes we're free," Kratos informed, glancing cautiously in the direction of the exit.

"Dad... Jeremiel's _dead_," Lloyd softly offered. The mercenary's eyes widened in shock. "...Raine killed him."

Kratos stood, shocked silent, for a good minute or so.

At last, he managed to choke out, "_what_?" But he clearly wasn't done. "When? _How_?!" The swordsman paused, taking another deep breath. "Tell me everything."

"The Professor killed Jeremiel, just about an hour ago. Sabriel, the servant I told you about, he let me out, and told me to find you and let you out too. He... he said he was a close personal friend of hers, and he knew that you would find her and help her as best you could. Sabriel was stalling, trying to bide time, he said, before he was caught and killed. He knew that, whether or not he took the blame for Jeremiel's death, he'd be killed for his close association with the Professor, so he'd take the blame anyways, give her time to get away." He paused to take a deep breath, unused to such long strings of words even _before_ he was in captivity.

"Why in the hell did she _kill_ him?!" Kratos took Lloyd's pause as an opportunity to demand more information. His son paused, gazing at him a moment, eyeing him like he had when Kratos had first asked about Raine.

"Jeremiel... had sentenced you to death. The Professor couldn't see any other way to save you, I guess."

Kratos blinked, his brow furrowing ever-so-slightly, but only for a moment. Then his eyes widened in realization. Did that mean... she'd forgiven him? It _had_ to! But then his slight elation faded into a troubled look.

"So much has happened since they imprisoned me down here."

The Eternal Swordsman gazed at him in surprise. Didn't Kratos know? "Dad, it's been a _year_."

Kratos was shocked, though he didn't let on. A year. A full year! He'd spent a full year of his life in that damp, dark, horribly isolated dungeon. Though compared to his over four thousand years of life before that, it seemed a meager amount of time, it was a lot longer when spent in conditions such as he had.

After a moment, he shook his head, turning and bounding off toward the door. Though it was still incredibly dark, the stray rays of candlelight illuminated just enough that his enhanced eyesight could make out the shapes around him. He snatched his sword from where it rested idly, cobweb-ridden, against the wall not far away, taking the steps two at a time, despite the burning pain already settling into his long-unused muscles.

"Where are you going?" Lloyd shouted after him, and he paused, just barely still in view.

"To find Raine! There's something I've waited a year to tell her..."

* * *

**ArissaMay:** Why. Was. This. So. HARD. Gaaaad. It took forever to force this out, word by word. The next chapter will be longer, don't worry. I had to make a chapter for each of them, to show where they're at, and-... Why am I telling you guys? Just sit down, read it, review, and don't complain. :P 15 reviews, folks. :3 


	11. Desperate Flight

**ArissaMay:** Pfft. Only ten reviews? –scoff- I'm offended. XD Nah, kidding. Most people would kill for ten reviews, so I'm not complainin'. :D Sorry this took so long, I was in a bit of a funk. Got dumped a couple of weeks ago. D: And grounded. And tons of schoolwork... I know that's no excuse, though, sorry. D:

* * *

Chapter Eleven

It was all she could do to keep flying. The wind was fierce against her skin, and, though she was no longer as sensitive to hot and cold, she knew by the blueish hue her skin was taking on that she wasn't going to be able to ignore the chill for long. The ocean was below her, wide and ominous, its waves reaching impossibly high, as if trying to snag her from the air. There was no sign of angels putting up chase, _yet_, but that was only because they were busy following whatever incriminating trail poor, brave Sabriel had lain to frame himself for the death.

_No..._ She glanced at the sun through squinted eyes. _It has been nearly two days now, since I fled. Sabriel... is surely dead by now._ And her heart was as numb as her skin, as numb as her mind, yet despite that, she found it in her to ache for her poor, dead friend. He'd died for _her_... What kind of a monster had she become, to allow him to die in her stead? What kind of a monster had she become, to kill her king, her mate, her love...

No. He hadn't been her love. Well, at one point, long ago, she may have thought he was. But he as well had been a monster, and had probably been using her all along.

Yet he'd seemed so sincere, so honest, so pure in his love for her when he spoke of it in the forest that it perhaps hurt the worst of all, to find out that after all he'd said, it had all been a lie.

So she found herself flying blindly, no longer caring where she went, only trying to escape her fears, tears, reality, and the realization of what she had done. She'd killed her mate, left her closest ally for dead, all to spare the life or delay the death of a man who thought of her as 'just another dirty half-elf'. A man who'd left without a backward glance for years, only to force his presence upon her when he needed somewhere to hide. A man who nearly drowned her, when she'd trusted him. A man who, despite all his betrayals, all his wrongdoings, she still trusted with her life.

Then something struck her.

Literally.

Or, at least, that's what it felt like. She suddenly felt the entirety of her strength, of her mana as well as physical power, drain from her body. She gasped in shock, and in protest at the sudden cold, which was no longer dulled, and hit her with the force of a Rheaird. She found herself struggling to battle the wind, which had only been a minor threat before.

An unprecedented panic raced through her mind and body. She had no clue what was going on, but knew it could not be good, and would much be over dry land when it happened. Frantically, she flapped for a continent up ahead. Flanoir, the worst continent possible to fly over, especially when you can _feel_ it, yet she had no choice.

Just as the continent's farthest reaches passed beneath her, she felt her wings flicker, along with an immediate deceleration. For a few moments, she drifted, painstakingly slowly, as her wings continued to flicker dangerously. Then they disappeared, and the half-elf found herself free-falling toward the snow below. For a moment, she imagined the snow as rain, and the snow below as a dark, foreboding ocean. Yet that time, Kratos had been there, a panicked gaze on her falling form. He'd saved her. Now, he was many miles away, likely still trapped in the Tower. _As if he'd care if I died, anyways._

Though the snow was thick and soft where she landed, it only meant that she'd live in misery a while longer, rather than a quick, painless death. Her landing was accentuated by a distinct and sickening crack, and a sudden stab of agony seized her arm. She cried out in pain, cradling it to her chest and rocking back and forth slightly. After a few moments, she managed to grit her teeth against the pain and slowly rise to her feet.

_I _must _make it to Flanoir. I can't die, not here._

She muttered the spell for First Aid, but her tongue was thick with cold and pain. Despite that, she knew it was no use, even with perfect enunciation. She could no longer feel the rush of mana in her core, not even the slight buzz in her veins that she'd _always_ had. And there was nothing she could do about it.

Squinting, she tried to look around her, but could barely see through the torrential snowstorm. Despite that, she forced herself to take a step, and then another, and another, blundering blindly onward against the frigid ice and winds, and praying that she was heading toward her sanctuary, Flanoir. For what felt like hours, she trudged through the ever-deepening snow drifts, and slowly, her strength _and_ her hopes waned.

_I must make it... to Flanoir... I can't die here..._

She forced herself to repeat her earlier vow, yet even her _thoughts_ were losing strength. Each step drew her closer and closer to exhaustion, to failure. At last, she could go no farther, and collapsed in the snow.

Yet it was no longer an unwelcome release...

----------

Though he was still incredibly weak from his year of imprisonment, Kratos still roughly forced his wings out the moment his lungs drew fresh air, and shot off at what was very close to top-speed toward the continent of Flanoir. He prayed that she was there; it had made sense to him, for her to flee to the most secluded area she could think of. She wouldn't want to be found, he knew, and she'd head to the place others were least likely to search for her. For him, that was Flanoir. He hoped she hadn't thought it through _too _thoroughly. If she had, she'd realize the logic in Flanoir, and in turn, choose somewhere entirely different. But the icy continent was his best bet, so this was where he headed.

He soared low, almost low enough to skim the waters with his toes, jaw set in determination and eyes scanning every inch of his surroundings for any sign of the half-elf he sought. He watched, praying that, against all odds, he would find her before she lost herself.

To the pain inside her, as well as to the ever-intensifying blizzard that swirled ominously above the icy continent. The seraph's brow furrowed in worry, and he heaved his wings ever-harder, forcing himself to speeds that would be treacherous even when he was in top-shape.

Yet as he sailed low over the unbroken layer of snow, all but oblivious to the snow and ice pelting every inch of him from above, the safety of his speed was the last thing on his mind.

_Raine, where are you!?_

It was a miracle he caught it, really. Sheer miracle that his eye, sensitive and trained as it may be, caught the slight disturbance in the expanse of snow beneath him. He descended hastily, enough so that he stumbled upon landing, but Kratos allowed himself to fall to his knees, for the disturbance was a flap of beige cloth, waving wildly in the winds.

The seraph forced his hands into the snow, pushing it aside as quickly as he could, but the year in isolation and inactivity was catching up to him, so the snow was scooped with clumsily shaking hands.

It was as he'd feared.

He'd uncovered Raine Sage.

The _body_ of Raine Sage, at least.

Kratos felt his heart stop a moment, and his breath caught in his throat.

"R-..." But his throat closed off, preventing him from finishing the name on his tongue. Slowly, he reached out to lay a shivering finger on her porcelain-white cheek, forcing it to remain there, despite the urge to recoil at the unnatural chill of her skin.

_This is... all my doing..._

Carefully, he lifted her limp body from the snow, his head bowed in remorse for all that he had done.

But... no.

Something was... off.

Kratos hesitated, gazing upon her in confusion. Almost at once, he knew what it was.

However faint, it may be, he could feel her heartbeat pulsing through her chilled body, and see the morbidly faint rise and fall of her chest in short, jagged breaths.

Raine was alive.

Though the seraph harbored no doubt that she'd been dead when he found her, this miraculous sign of vitality made his eyes shoot wide in bewilderment, and his throat choke up once more, this time in relief.

The Professor was in very bad shape. Her life could be down to seconds, even, for all he knew. Her skin was a ghastly shade of white, except for where her extremities had blued slightly, and her lips were looking slightly blue as well. Yet he had found her. And she was alive.

----------

The memories since she'd left the tower were all a blur of pain and hopelessness, growing vaguer and vaguer the more recent they'd occurred. Those since she'd collapsed were more so.

One moment, she was enveloped in death's icy embrace, sliding from reality, _welcoming _it... She could remember smiling, or at least, feeling like smiling, for she had gone numb. After months, after _years_ even of pain, Raine hurt no more.

The next moment, she was being lifted away from her sweet release, into a desperate embrace far warmer than the beautiful nothingness had been, into a world both more harsh and solid, and more soft and comforting.

Raine felt herself moving, though in her state, it felt more like floating, like when she and Jeremiel used to bask atop the white puffy variety of cloud on many a warm day. Oh how he'd smiled at her, so full of adoration...

Then she felt the biting wind die away, though she was so accustomed to it's touch by then that, until it ceased, she hadn't even realized it had been crashing upon her. This new place, wherever it was, it was still, calm. For a fleeting moment, a thought of returning to that welcome nothingness crossed her mind, yet she knew at once that this warmth was the opposite of the former frigid chill of before.

The next thing she remembered was the sensation of descent, as she felt herself, as well as the embrace, lower to rest on a cool surface. She half expected the warmth to fade, yet it did not, only holding her tighter as she regained the muscle control needed to shiver. Many memories in a row, she was enfolded in that welcome warm state, though all sense of time was lost.

Slowly, she felt herself warming up.

And slowly, she drifted off to sleep.

* * *

**ArissaMay:** -blink- Okay, this _wasn't_ longer. But this was the rescue scene you've all been waiting for, so sit down and shut up. :P The OUTLINE for the next chapter is three pages long, so that'll be something to look forward to. :P Haha. Thanks for the reviews. I LOVE YOU GUYS. Seriously. XD If enough of you enjoy this story, by the way, I may write a sequel eventually. –le gaspe- So... 15 reviews. :3 


	12. Tense Reunions

**ArissaMay:** Sorry it took so long. D: Real life fails. And I pretty much had to fight a severe case of writers' block. And I'm behind in school. And all kinds of crazy shit like that. Back though. :3

Chapter Twelve

The howling of the wind echoed through the cave, though not even the slightest of breezes reached as far in as the spot the seraph had chosen to rest. The only light was from a small woodless fire, kept alive only by his own mana, but far warmer than any natural fire.

Despite that, there was a frigid chill in the cave, a chill that seeped into one's very bones. And so the faint firelight found the silver-haired half-elf, cradled in his arms. She was severely hypothermic as it was, and needed all the warmth she could get.

Now that a good hour or so had passed since he'd settled them into the depths of their cave, thoughts other than the preservation of life were creeping into the mind of the seraph. Foremost on the list was how incredibly foreign it felt to be so close to another being... Close behind that, a nagging worry that it felt far more right than it really should. Was this betrayal, this feeling of rightness? Surely it had to be. Surely this state of sudden relative peace of mind, here in a cave with a very unconscious Raine in his lap, a faint glow surrounding them as their auras of mana connected, his fueling a constant first-aid-like connection to her far dimmer one.

But it was probably because of his isolation. As much evidence supported the contrary, Kratos didn't like to be alone. And a year in solitary confinement could make any company whatsoever feel like bliss. Yet she looked so weak, so pale, so... un-Raine. It unnerved him, how fragile she seemed, compared to her usual strong-willed and lively self. And it was probably the fact that she _was_ so unlike her normal self that made it so much easier to be close enough to lend her his warmth and mana.

Suddenly, he felt the figure in his arms tense ever-so-slightly, shifting a bit. She was waking up. Though his fist impulse was to grin in relief, he realized how awkward it would be, should she wake up as she was, so instead, he laid her by the fire. Hesitating a moment, he also removed his violet shirt, laying it beneath her so the frigid stone floor wouldn't steal away the heat she'd only recently obtained.

Then her eyelids fluttered open. The half-elf blinked a couple of times, then her gaze met Kratos's, searching.

"Raine, are you alright?" He questioned, the concern finding its way into his tone, despite his attempt at 'cool and collected'.

Raine gazed at him, opening her mouth a moment, then closing it, her brow furrowing in confusion. After a good part of a minute, she eventually offered, "alive?"

Something was wrong.

"Raine?" He half-demanded, concern evident. Her words had taken so long, and when it came out, it sounded... off.

"Fine," came the answer at once. There were a few more moments of apparent thought, and then she continued. "Just... scrambled."

Kratos paused.

"What happened?"

The next silence was lengthy; in the firelight, the mercenary could see an incredibly determined look etched into her features as she furrowed her brow and bit her lip slightly in concentration. If this pause was like the last two, and she was using it to collect words in her mind, he prepared for a long and detailed reply.

Yet it was simple. "It called to me... And I came."

He didn't need to ask what called.

Cold. Silence. Death.

He looked away a moment.

"Why are... words scrambled?" At her words, Kratos's gaze returned to the woman's face, to find her own gaze trained on him in bewilderment. It was his turn to pause in thought.

"If what you say is true, and you welcomed death, I believe you may have actually died a short time before I found you. A couple of moments, at max, else even _I _couldn't have helped you. But in that moment, your brain shut off, and if it were to shut off even for a miniscule increment of time, its functions would be temporarily damaged," he explained, almost as if musing aloud rather than informing her of solid facts. "I believe your brain is beginning to sort itself back out again, and that's why you can speak at _all_."

Raine paused, processing this information, slightly troubled. After a few minutes, his ultra-keen senses felt her muscles all tense. His gaze shot around, scouring the cave for danger he could have missed. Yet after a moment, she relaxed again.

"Kratos, why can't I move!?" She demanded, and, though her voice was still labored from the temporary mental impairment, her words were definitely clear, and _panicked_. His gaze shot back to her, to find her eyes wide in alarm.

"Your brain is still sorting things out," he reassured her. "Your arms will be functional by tomorrow, though they may not work properly for a couple of additional days."

"And my legs?" She shot back, without skipping a beat.

"Three days, max."

"Is that a promise?" The half-elf demanded, though Kratos knew it was to ease her panic. He hesitated, torn.

Then the seraph nodded. "That's a promise."

----------

"Why do you presume my wings disappeared to begin with?" The half-elf broke the silence with her inquisition, turning to gaze at Kratos in genuine puzzlement. It had been two days they'd been holed up in that cave, and, though the blizzard had gone down, and Kratos had flown to Flanoir for food for the both of them, he insisted that the cave was far safer than traveling to any town or city, especially with Raine in her current state.

As he'd promised, she'd forced some use into her arms the next day, and used one to prop herself up against the cave wall beside him. Only when she noticed that she'd been laying on his shirt did she fully process that he was without it; mature as she was, the half-elf found herself blushing slightly at the sight. He didn't notice, of course... She gazed off the other way, into the darkness of the cave deeper in than they were. And he didn't question her... She'd taken to gazing off thoughtfully, in the last couple of days.

Kratos was almost alarmed by how much she'd changed. Though Raine was still the Professor, he could already feel the absence of her usual headstrong fire, replaced by a new and foreign tame air about her. What had that bastard done to her? He'd watched her go through unbelievable hardships and not lose who she was... Could Jeremiel have been worse to her than even _those_?

"There's only one possible reason," he replied to her question, gaze on the fire as he mentally figured the details.

After a moment of gazing at him expectantly, Raine prompted, "_yes_?"

"He took them from you."

Her eyes widened in surprise, and she shook her head at once. "I-... he-… Kratos, I saw the body. Jeremiel was dead, and I made it so."

The seraph leaned his head back against the cave wall, roughly enough to make her wince, closing his eyes.

"You just _had _to kill him, didn't you?" He muttered after a few moments' silence.

Her wide eyes narrowed mutinously. "Indeed, I should have just let him up and kill you, now, shouldn't I?"

He was silent for a moment. Then he lifted his head up from its resting spot, gazing at her, his expression unfathomable. "Why did you do it?"

"I couldn't let him kill you," she replied. Her voice was soft, but the instantaneity of her answer showed that her words were absolute. And because of this, he didn't say anything more about the complications her decision caused, or the repercussions sure to come. Instead, he paused, then nodded once.

"Thank you."

And he gazed at her with such burning sincerity, so sincere that her first meeting with Jeremiel came to mind. She shook her head, tearing her gaze away to watch the darkness deeper in the cave.

"Don't think I've forgotten for one minute what you said to me, Kratos Aurion," she warned, and they both remembered so clearly the last time they'd been comrades, how fervently he'd blamed her for Lloyd's capture.

He could hardly keep from flinching, and his gaze returned to the fire.

"I know."

----------

Raine awoke two mornings later, and at once could feel the change. It took her a moment to place it, but only a moment, as she wiggled her toes in something akin to delight. The half-elf burst out in a sporadic grin, but forcefully collected herself a moment later, celebrating on the inside instead.

Her gaze shot to Kratos. He was asleep against the rough cave wall, stray bangs obscuring one eye, his face far more peaceful than she'd ever seen it before. It was usually carefully professional, emotionless, yet always watching, always listening... As if it was his sole duty to protect his charges, or his companions, and not to involve himself in petty _feelings_.

_This_ Kratos... He seemed _likable_. Granted, the awake Kratos had his moments, but they often were ruined by some infuriating comment or action that sent him back to Stage 1: Tolerable at Best.

She wondered, how much of that was _her_ fault? How much of the stress that _kept_ him from relaxing was due to or worsened by Raine Sage? A great deal of it, she decided. How many times had he saved her now? A good number of them. And she couldn't stand to be a burden. Never had been able to, and never would.

So as she shifted, excruciatingly slowly, to place her weight on her legs so as to rise to her feet, she prayed to any being that would listen that he not wake up. That when he did wake up, he wouldn't follow her. That she would be forced to deal with her own problems, even after she decided she no longer wished to.

Then came the first mistake.

Thanks to heavy doses of First Aid, which had kept her from hurting for a good deal of time, she overestimated her condition. Yet she was still weak yet, and as she enlisted the pushing strength of her right arm to help her rise, she lost her balance, slipping back down to the ground. The mistake was miraculously silent... But in slipping, her left arm reflexively flew down to catch her.

And even _First Aid_ has a degree of pain that it can't block out.

She drew breath sharply, gritting her teeth to fight down a cry of pain. Settled on the ground, she brought her arm to her chest, cradling it defensively. Only the miracle of darkness and keeping her side turned to him had shielded from Kratos the state of the arm she'd landed on a few days prior, and even then, she was amazed it had worked; her arm was fairly swollen, and an angry blue hue. Before she knew it, a stream of muttered curses were flying from her lips, enough to have gained a round of applause from Zelos, should the lecherous Chosen have been present. After a couple of moments, she realized what she was doing, and snapped her mouth shut, eyes wide.

Too late.

His eyes snapped open and shot to where she sat. Hastily, she shifted her arm out of view, but not without his noticing. Wordlessly, he rose to his feet, silently stepping over to where she rested and crouching beside her.

The half-elf kept her arm from view. "It's not that bad," she protested defensively, but he paid no mind. Slowly, he reached over and grasped her other arm, bringing it back to rest across her lap. At the sight of it, his eyes widened slightly, and he cursed under his breath.

"Damn it, Raine, it's _broken_," he swore half angrily. She refused to meet his gaze. "I could have fixed it at the beginning, if you'd _told_ me," the seraph continued, though not as fiercely as before. She didn't answer, gaze still on the stone floor on her opposite side. He muttered a few more words under his breath, then commanded, "_First Aid._"

At once she felt a great deal better, though it still ached in protest to her escape attempt. She flexed it once, experimentally, still refusing to look at him. And then there was silence yet again.

After a short while, Kratos broke the silence. "You wouldn't have made it far, anyways," he softly explained. "You're still far too weak to travel alone."

Her eyes widened despite herself, though only momentarily. "How did you-"

"I'm not stupid, Raine." He cut her off curtly. And once more, there was silence, almost akin to the silence before a battle, the sort where the opponents size each other up, figure out their first move.

Then she sighed. "If Jeremiel still lives, and has power enough to take not just my angel powers, but my magic and healing as well, how do I even stand a _chance_ against him in battle?"

He gazed at her a moment, almost imploringly. His voice was soft: "You're not alone, Raine."

Raine brought her eyes up to meet his, and in that moment, she knew it was true.

**ArissaMay:** Whee. Complete. Shorter than I expected, but hey, satisfying I hope?


	13. The Aftermath

**ArissaMay:** Alright, I'm a bad bad person. I let you guys dangle, didn't even intend to finish this… But I will. So sorry for the wait… Not even gonna make excuses this time. D: This chapter is dedicated to _My Lovely Yume_, who prodded me back into this. I owe you, girly. ;3

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Chapter Thirteen

It was nearly six days before Raine could stand with steady legs again, though, as promised, she'd been able to use them for three days prior. And, however unlike her, Raine Sage was restless. Not because she was defenseless, though, as she'd discovered in falling from the sky, she was even more defenseless than before she'd rendezvoused with Jeremiel. No, this restlessness stemmed from boredom and a sheer lack of anything to do. Raine, who had been holed up in her cluttered hut for weeks on end, who could spend hours and hours in a hard wooden chair studying the same chapter from one of her many volumes of reference materials. Raine, who once read the entire twelve-book collection of "_The White Mage's Lexicon, A-Z_" in two days. Raine, whose patience was only matched by Kratos himself, was so restless she could hardly stand still.

Kratos, of course, found this amusing. He spent most of Raine's recovery cross-legged on the floor, and did not bother to hide his observant gaze as he watched her pace to and fro. He was mildly surprised that she had not complained yet; perhaps she'd taken his amusement as a challenge, one which he would win should she voice any discontent.

Eventually, the half-elf sighed, sinking back against the stone wall and closing her eyes. After a moment, her lips started moving, her hands flexed slightly as if clutching a large round object, and though Kratos couldn't quite understand what she was saying, he knew from his observations throughout the past few days that she was once more attempting to draw out her mana.

And so she was. Even the slightest tickle of the familiar electrical power of Photon, or the more flamelike feel of First Aid. The barest of sensations would do, anything to prove that she was not rendered useless, by a dead man no less. Of course, she reasoned, were he truly dead, he could not have done this to her. But how could he have survived what she had done to him? To do so would mean he was far more powerful than she had given him credit for... More powerful than _Kratos_ had given him credit for.

But he couldn't possibly have taken it _all_ from her... She was a half-elf, it was in her blood, her genetic makeup, as surely as was her silver hair and point-tipped ears. He _couldn't_ have taken it all...

Her brow knit together as she concentrated harder, though that was the only outward change. Her lips still flew through mana-calling spells at the same rapid yet steady pace, and her hands did not relax, as if any moment a ball of white light could explode into existence in the palm of her hand, as it would have before.

The seraph looked away. He always did when she got like this, though whether it was simply to allow her her privacy, or because it was close to depressing to watch her struggle as she did, even he didn't quite know. His gaze shifted to the fire, which had grown small and cooled somewhat as of late. His eyes were already adjusted to the dark, and he could not feel the cold, so it often slipped his mind that the light and warmth were necessary for _her_ sake. Besides, they didn't need to linger in the cave for much longer. Raine had regained her strength, as much as was to be expected, and their cave was becoming more of a prison than a shelter for recovery. She was as ready as she'd ever be, he _himself_ had been ready to leap into battle the moment he'd been let from his cell—such was how seraphim were built—and any longer in this cave of monotony would likely drive Raine over the edge.

He rose fluidly to his feet, his legs at first complaining at the sudden shift, and then welcoming it hungrily. The stiffness eased out after a few moments, however, and he stepped around the fire to Raine. Her eyelid twitched as he approached, though Kratos was fairly certain that the acknowledgement was as involuntary as it was slight, as she made no other move to show she even remembered he _existed_.

"Raine?" He prompted, his voice quiet but insistent. Her eyes snapped open, at once zeroing in on his, in a slightly panicked state of disorientation for a moment before she realized it was him. With a fatigued sigh of defeat, she sunk to the ground, leaning against the wall of the cave for support. In the faint light from the fire, Kratos could see the despair etched into the contours of her face, though she forced a composed face. He didn't expect anything less from Professor Raine Sage than a nearly bomb-proof calm face. So, to allow her the dignity of thinking he couldn't read her so easily, he remained standing rather than crouching beside her, and he kept his voice flat.

"We are ready to leave now," Kratos informed her, though she made no move to stand. "Unless, of course, you've taken a liking to the cave? _I'm_ departing within the hour, and I'm obligated to inform you that the fire goes with me."

"Good riddance. It's near impossible to sleep with that thing so bright," she retorted, but stood up nearly at once, clearly ready as well. Kratos had known she would leave with him, joyously in fact, what with how she had been pacing earlier, pacing for a couple of days now.

Wordlessly, he strapped on his sword and the rest of his gear, as Raine palmed the shaft of her staff in a familiar fashion, as if reacquainting with an old friend. Once equipped, he turned to the left and strode confidently toward the increasingly dark tunnel.

"Excuse me? Where are _you_ going?" Raine demanded from behind him. The seraph stopped, but didn't turn.

"In case it slipped your memory, I'm _leaving_. I thought you had decided to come along?" He replied casually, and she glared, in response to what she had interpreted as mockery.

"_I am_," she hissed, before taking a nearly inaudible yet deep breath. "_I_, however, am going to take the _correct_ tunnel out, rather than wander deeper still into this wretched cave and likely get lost."

With this, he turned to face her, a half-smirk of poorly concealed amusement on his face. "Oh? And how are _you_ to know I'm going in the wrong direction? I don't seem to recall you mapping the path on the way in," he replied, rather than outright disagreeing with her.

"I have faith in my sense of direction. It has yet to lead me wrong," She replied defiantly, but he shook his head.

"No. That direction will lead us straight out onto the continent, toward Flanoir, and we will, in turn, have to reverse our direction and circumnavigate the mountain we currently stand in, in the frigid wind and snow," he stated, his voice leaving no room for argument. "Would it not be easier for you just to follow me, trek _through_ the mountain, and exit on the outskirts of said blizzard rather than in the heart of it?"

Raine couldn't seem to decide whether to be livid or relieved that the former mercenary was correct, and instead made a dissatisfied 'hmff'-like noise, slightly similar to the one Kratos often substituted for multi-syllabolic answers, but distinctly feminine. With that, she drew herself up and stalked up past him. Satisfied, he turned to follow, and with a slight hissing noise, the fire behind them extinguished.

The pair was plunged into darkness. Raine very nearly cursed in surprise, such was the disgruntlement she felt. She could hear Kratos's sharp footsteps on the stone beneath their feet, could feel him not only catch up, but step ahead of her with ease as she hesitated in the darkness. Though half-elves had fairly proficient night vision, it wasn't quite sufficient in such total darkness as this. A few steps later, she realized she could no longer hear Kratos's footsteps. Was he that far ahead? With a slight jolt of panic, she hurried a few more steps, intent on catching up, but found herself face to face with a wall. She exhaled quickly, disliking this recent turn of events, and the fact that she was now sideways and against a wall, unable to orient herself properly, where either direction she turned had a 50 chance of being the wrong way.

After a moment, a blinding light lit the area. There Kratos was, not six feet to her left, a pair of familiar glowing wings on his back, waiting for her. She quickly stepped over to stand beside him, though her dignity only allowed her to offer a slight, grateful nod. The seraph seemed satisfied, turning once more to continue down the tunnel. The Professor kept closer this time. Not close enough to touch, but close enough to be _in_ the aura of light his wings offered rather than just _following_ it.

For what seemed like hours—time was relative in a straight-shot through a dark cave—the two of them trekked in silence. The only sound made between them was the steady rhythm of Raine's footsteps. Naturally, Kratos's made no sound.

At last, the Professor broke the silence. "How are you so _well_ already? I'm not implying that you were quite _unwell_ to begin with, but... After a year in that cell..."

"Seraphim are built quite differently. Able to withstand much more and recover much faster," Kratos replied without emotion, his gaze still straight ahead. "As you should probably know."

Were it not for her well-cultivated dignity, she'd have cringed. Whether he'd meant it that way or not, his words were a pretty cheap shot. This sent her back into silence, and held her there until at last they could see a light shining at the end of the tunnel. She could almost hear her brother's voice, making some crack along the lines of 'don't go into the light!', as he would have were he with them. It surprised her, how much she missed her brother. No, nevermind. What surprised her was that it had taken this long to miss him in this way.

And then they were out. She could hear the wind barreling between the mountains, and the storm still raging on the other side, but here on _their_ side, a fiercely cold breeze was all they received of the icy element.

Kratos, however, kept walking, so Raine followed suit, though where exactly he was headed, she didn't know. Eventually, they come to a stop about ten feet from the icy cliffs that marked the edge of the continent. The seraph's gaze swept the area, searchingly.

"Where exactly are we headed?" The half-elf questioned, though considerably more subdued than she generally would have been, likely still contemplating their last bout of conversation.

"Meltokio, where we're to form our plan of action," Kratos replied, glancing at her briefly before continuing to look around.

"And how, pray tell, do you propose to do-" She cut off as he glanced back once more, gesturing with his wings as if it were obvious. "-that." Her eyes widened, and she shook her head fervently in shocked refusal. It was all too clear in her memory what had happened the _last_ time he'd flown her...

"Raine..." Kratos turns toward her at last, his brow slightly furrowed. She took a step back, gaze shifting from the man to the large expanse of frigid water behind him. After a moment, the sea, the snow, and Kratos began to sway precariously, and she dropped to one knee to steady herself, still shaking her head slightly.

Kratos hesitated, then moved to crouch beside her, his brow still slightly furrowed in a troubled fashion. "Raine, I won't drop you," he offered, hoping that would do something to console her. It was... _mildly uncomfortable _to see her go to pieces like that.

Her eyes lifted to his, with more strength than he'd expected. "You _swear_ it?" Her icy blue gaze was searching, obligatory. But he didn't look away.

"I swear it."

Their gazes remained locked for a moment in verification, before she nodded, however tensely.

Kratos didn't even wait for her to stand; he swept her up in the air in a no-nonsense fashion, turning at once toward the raging waters behind him. She found a hand gripping the front of his shirt already, like a lifeline, her wide eyes fixed on the waves. He paid it no mind, however, not hesitating once as he strode purposefully forward and took off up into the air. With a startled squeak, Raine turned and buried her face in the front of his shirt, unable to watch the expanse of water speeding by beneath them. _'It's only some water, it's only some water,_' she repeated in her head, however futilely, to ease the panic.

In this manner they left the continent of Flanoir, the hardest part of the journey yet to come.

* * *

**ArissaMay:** It's been a while since I've written, so I apologize for the rather cruddy chapter. I have to get back in the hang of it. D: Read, review, be merry!


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